


You've got to promise not to stop when I say when

by atomicblondie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathroom Sex, Cheating, F/M, Mention of abuse, Minor Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, surely thats obvious with joffrey in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-02-29 12:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18778300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicblondie/pseuds/atomicblondie
Summary: Those stormy eyes would be the death of her, she thought, as his intense gaze raked over her. How was it that she felt breathless from a look? Without much thought, Sansa gave the tiniest of nods, and he reached out to the lock. The slow click of it was deafening, her hands falling from her hair and coming to rest on the sink in front of her. Still he didn’t move, and she realised it was because he wanted permission. This was her choice, he wouldn’t push a moment. Sansa’s lips parted but she couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t think of the way to say yes, please, you.----On a date with her neglectful and quite frankly terrible boyfriend, Sansa ends up in the bathroom with someone else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that incredible Brio scene from Good Girls. I don't watch the show, but saw that scene and it left an impact.

The restaurant was overtly modern. Glass and metal everything, bright white lights instead of that warm yellow that lit everything softly, giving the impression the room was bathed in candlelight. The walls were white and bare except for ‘modern art’ which was something she never understood. Did it have a meaning?  She didn’t bother disputing his choice of locations, there was no point to it. Sansa wasn’t sure why Joffrey had such an aversion to comfort. Sometimes she wondered if he actually liked any of this stuff, or if he just went along with it because he was rich and was supposed to like  _fancy_ things. Most of time she knew he wasn’t capable of pretending to like something he didn’t. If he could, maybe he’d chuck some of that falsity in her direction once in a while.

Inside, and with Joffrey’s clammy hand holding hers, the concierge led them to their table. They sat and without missing a beat Joffrey started. “Your best ale for me, a Cosmopolitan for her.”  He’d ordered her favourite despite how much he found it embarrassing! It did as he wanted, placated her for the moment. They’d already had a moment of strain that night, when she told him his suit looked nice and he gave an abrupt ‘thanks’ and nothing else, no ’ _you look pretty Sansa_ ’, no ’ _that dress looks great_ ’, no acknowledgement of her in the slightest when she’d made an effort to look good for him. They’d - no,  _she’d_ \- stood there in awkward silence until he decided to walk out the door in front of her.

Sansa folded her hands in her lap after the man left them, Joffrey had immediately gone into his phone and started typing away. She knew better than to interrupt him, if it was anything work related, family related, or friend related, he’d snap at her for distracting him. There wasn’t a lot that he wouldn’t snap at her for, though. It was getting out of hand, and she was reaching her wits end. But that was hidden beneath layers and layers of endless people pleasing and the spark of joy at the attention she did receive.

Her drink was placed in front of her by a waiter and she smiled up, wrapping her fingers delicately around the stem of the glass. Sansa’s attention wandered around the room as she brought the Cosmo to her lips, a small sip, and she almost choked on it when she spotted Theon fucking Greyjoy sitting at the bar with some high class (but also low class) blonde with her hand on his knee. Except, he wasn’t looking at his blonde. He was looking at  _her_.

She dodged his gaze, if Joffrey noticed he’d have flown off the handle, but that didn’t stop the way a flush was rising to her cheeks.

Theon Greyjoy. The endless difficulty in her life.

The last time they’d spoken, he’d run his fingers down her neck and given that shit eating smirk at the way her breath hitched at his touch.

Sansa flicked her long hair behind her shoulder and tried to seem composed, focusing her attention back to her boyfriend. “How was your day Joff?” She asked, a desperate bid to spark up a conversation with him rather than focus on the man with the too messy hair for this establishment.

Except all Joffrey did was glance up from his phone, “Fine, obviously.” He sighed at her disturbance and went back to texting. Sansa leaned back in her chair, despondent at the lack of any affection she craved. That’s when the waiter turned up, plate in each hand.

“What’s this? We haven’t even ordered yet.” She stared down at her food. He had roast chicken and various sides, but all that was in front of her was her worst culinary nightmare.

“I ordered over the phone.”

“Enjoy,” the waiter quickly spoke with a nod, and something told Sansa he knew Joffrey well enough not to stick around any longer.

“You know I hate steak tartare…”

“Oh, do you?” Joffrey raised his brows, thoroughly unimpressed with her voicing an opinion. “Well they’ve made it now so just eat it.”

Sansa’s perfect posture deflated, elbow on the table as she pushed the food around the plate with her fork. To make things worse she could feel eyes on her, leaving her overly conscious of every movement.

“Stop playing with your food.” Joffrey snapped at her, and her neck lifted to look at him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, lifting her fork to her mouth, only carrying the salad leaves from the side of the plate.

“You Starks are so ungrateful.” The blonde lion told her, and she could hear the venom. She set her fork down without eating anything, polished off her cocktail and smiled softly at him.

“Excuse me, I’m just going to use the bathroom.” She waited for him to wave his hand in dismissal then slipped from her seat and headed away.

Sansa found herself in front of the mirror, staring at herself and trying to work out exactly why she was still here. Why she hadn’t kicked Joffrey Lannister to the curb months back, that first time he’d backhanded her across the cheek. She would leave. This was it. Fingers went to her hair, preening herself. Somehow it mattered that she looked good when she left.  _Show him what he’ll be missing_.

The door opened behind behind her but she payed no mind, figuring it was another girl having a much more pleasant night. Except, no steps came after the door sighed closed. Sansa glanced at the reflection, and there Theon was. Stood next to the door, eyes glued to her.

Those stormy eyes would be the death of her, she thought, as his intense gaze raked over her. How was it that she felt breathless from a look? Without much thought, Sansa gave the tiniest of nods, and he reached out to the lock. The slow click of it was deafening, her hands falling from her hair and coming to rest on the sink in front of her. Still he didn’t move, and she realised it was because he wanted permission. This was her choice, he wouldn’t push a moment. Sansa’s lips parted but she couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t think of the way to say  _yes_ ,  _please_ ,  _you_.

She knew it wasn’t just a reaction to Joffrey’s behaviour tonight. Every moment she’d spent in Theon’s presence in the past two months had been charged with want on her part, becoming hyper aware of every move either of them made. It was as if the atoms simply could not settle when they were both in the room.

When the words wouldn’t come, Sansa did the only thing she could manage. Slowly her fingers moved to the skirt of her dress and began collecting the fabric, hemline rising with each movement. Theon stepped forward, one step, two, then he was behind her. Close enough to touch, but restraining himself. His eyes were dark and hungry, the opposite of hers: wide and nervous.

Theon trailed his hand up her arm leaving goosebumps in his wake, then brushed her hair to the side. His mouth was on her neck immediately, pressing trails of kisses along the pale skin. Her head fell back onto his shoulder with a soft sigh, and it was as if she could finally breathe again.

In every way that Joffrey was cold, Theon was burning  _hot_.

His hands roaming her body set her alight, she’d never felt more wanted in her life. He lifted her skirt and snapped down her knickers and she instinctively lifted her feet in turn to let them fall past her heels. Theon traced his fingers up her thighs and her eyes fluttered shut when they settled against her. The slow circles had her gripping the sink in a bid for stability. A soft moan escaped her causing her to flush at how wanton she sounded, ladies weren’t meant to make those sounds in a public bathroom.

"You deserve better,” He breathed over the shell of her ear and she nodded. She knew. And  _he_ was better. He was everything. Sansa turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his, fingers carding through his hair holding him close because she needed more than he was giving her. She moaned into his mouth and she could feel the way he smiled against her, of course he was. Theon Greyjoy would revel in the fact that he made her sound like this for years.

Theon wrapped his arms around her waist and hiked her onto the sink, and she immediately reached between them to undo his trousers. Her nervous fingers struggled with the button, but he allowed her to finish the job while he drowned her senses with a rough kiss that was all teeth and tongue and  _want_.

She’d never been kissed like that, a kiss that made your legs feel weak and your mind feel foggy and your heart pound so hard you couldn’t hear anything else.

He pulled back from her and she shamelessly whimpered, if he changed his mind she might cry at the loss. But he was simply getting a condom and she appreciated it, she was too lust fuelled she hadn’t even considered protection.

Theon came back to her quickly, peppering kisses along her neck and shoulders as he lined himself up and moved inside her. Sansa keened into his touch as he set his fast and punishing pace, driven forward by the way her breath hitched in his ear. She moaned his name, a stream of  _please_  and  _yes_ and  _Theon_  like a prayer, that could only be silenced by his lips on hers, swallowing every sound until she broke apart and tucked her head into his shoulder.

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and choked back a cry of delight, fisting her hands in his shirt as she held on for dear life.

“ _Theon_ ,” she whined as the twisting building feeling spread through her, and it became completely and utterly overwhelming when he added his hand to her, fast and quick passes of his thumb that had her muffling cries into his shirt and pulling at his hair. It was torturous, but beautiful, and as much as Sansa wanted this to last forever she couldn’t hold on another second.

Sansa came with a shuddered call of his name, hands jolting across his back clamouring for an anchor until she slumped back against the wall. It was the completely spent and sated heavy breaths against Theon’s neck that finally did him in, losing his rhythm as he bucked his hips into her, groaning deep and low and sending shivers down her spine. She whimpered once more as she reveled in every part of him, soft smile spreading over her lips as he kissed the corner of her mouth. Sansa loosened her grip on him but tilted her head to follow on that kiss, sharing breath until they had no more and could only rest their foreheads together.

She placed her hand on his cheek, gentle and acknowledging the truth of what was between them. Theon smiled, but he pulled back knowing her boyfriend was in the next room, that this was a quickie in the bathroom. It was all in her court now. Somehow the words weren’t necessary, she seemed to understand with the way her smile faltered and her hand trailed down his neck, over his shirt and dropped into her own lap.

Theon stood tall as he cleaned himself up and redressed himself, reverting into that over confident, less than emotional version of himself that the public were used to seeing.

“I’ll see you, Sansa.”

She nodded, croaking out a “Theon,” as a simple acknowledgement because anything else might make her cry. How on earth had he managed that? Once he slipped out the door, Sansa dropped her head into her hands for a moment while she processed what had just happened. She finally came to the conclusion she’d been away from the table for too long and pushed herself off the sink. She pulled her skirt down to be decent if anyone else came inside, then began searching for her underwear but it quickly came apparent they were no longer there. “Prick.” She muttered, but there was a smile on her face that couldn’t be wiped off as she thought of Greyjoy carrying them around with him.

Sansa turned her attention to herself, grabbing a handtowel from the dispenser and ran it under cold water. She pat it to her face, hoping to cool herself down enough the pink on her cheeks would fade. Perhaps Joffrey wouldn’t notice, whenever they were together she faked it just to get him off her all the quicker, maybe he wouldn’t recognise the after sex glow she sported. After chucking it in the bin and adjusting her dress until she looked as put together as she did when she walked in, she left the bathroom with a deep breath to steady herself.

Sansa had never experienced a 'walk of shame’ before, but she imagined it felt like this. Guilt and embarrassment and the overwhelming feeling that everyone in the entire world knew what you had just done. She settled opposite Joffrey but struggled to look at him, certain he’d be able to read her mind with one look at her eyes. Sansa shouldn’t have worried, he barely even acknowledged her return. There was a new cocktail on the table in place of the empty glass she’d left, and the meal she didn’t want had been replaced with a tarte au citrone. It flooded her body with more guilt than she thought possible.

“I’ve had a call from my uncle.” He stated between bites of his rich chocolate cake. It looked sickly, Sansa thought, but she supposed in some way that suited him. “There’s an emergency and I have to head to the office.” Joffrey’s voice was on edge, and she knew not to test him.

“Oh, so soon?” Tonight wasn’t the night for a break up, she decided.

He still sighed at the question, “I can make time for you tomorrow.” It sounded like such a chore for him, and it wasn’t what she was asking for. She gave him a soft smile anyway.

“Thank you.”

Joffrey looked up and gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, they were void of emotion as usual. “Eat. We need to go.”

Sansa nodded, pausing only to adjust the skirt over her legs. Somehow she thought that the mere sight of them would scream out that Theon had been between them five minutes ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon drops by and gives Sansa something to think about.

It had been two weeks and Theon hadn’t heard anything. He’d expected to have heard  _something_. Maybe from Robb, telling him that she’d left her terrible boyfriend and being a pleased big brother. Theon would have had to pretend he didn’t know why, but he wouldn’t mind. He’d thought he would have heard on the grapevine, that Joffrey Lannister had been ditched and was in a rage induced alcohol fuelled spiral. That one would have made him smile, and he could assume that she just needed time to think. 

Most importantly he hadn’t heard from Sansa, and that was the one he’d hoped for the most. Even if it was just to collect her underwear, he’d assumed it drove her mad that he had them tucked away in his drawers - a memento of her indiscretion. But nothing. Not a call or a text or a moment of weakness where she turned up at his shitty little apartment and told him she wanted more. Of him. Of them. 

He hated to be this guy, thoughts wandering to a girl more often than not, he’d made fun of Jon when he pined and brooded over girls. Told Robb he was moving too fast when he jumped into that marriage after what, three months? And here he was, stoic ladies man Theon Greyjoy, checking his phone every five minutes to see if she’d gotten in touch. 

Waiting was painful, and every moment nothing came through was another moment to question. Did she regret it? Did she realise she preferred Joffrey? Was he wrong about every moment he caught her looking at him, focused on his arms while he worked, or when she would cheer him on while he played video games with Bran on the couch at her parents’ house and give him that impossibly bright smile win or lose. Was she scared of just being another passing woman in his life? Or was she just ashamed of him? 

He decided two weeks was long enough to wait. 

The drive over was silent. He’d put music on at first but it only grated at his nerves and he’d quickly shut it off, settling for the soft hum of the fans blowing warm air onto his forearms. 

His breathing was even and centred as he walked up the three sets of stairs to her apartment, but he wished the building had an elevator. Theon knocked and stepped back, but then decided he looked too anxious, and settled for leaning against the corridor wall opposite the door. 

Theon wasn’t sure he had ever been speechless in his life. But he was now, when she opened the door and she wore his top. It drove him wild and he wanted to push her up against the wall and have her right there, but the prominent thought was  _is she playing some sort of joke? She’s messing with me. She has to be_. And then it dawned on him that it was none of that. 

A couple of years ago when Theon had grown out of that top he’d given it to Robb, and he supposed the hand me down had gone one further. Sansa wasn’t wearing  _his_  top. She was wearing Robb’s. 

“ _Theon_ ,” she whisper scolded, and he finally realised how panicked she looked. “You shouldn’t be here...”

His heart dropped as realisation crept forward, his ever casual face faltering for a moment. “He’s here, isn’t he?” 

She didn’t say anything, opened her mouth like she was going to, but that was answer enough. 

“He doesn’t know?” He questioned again, trying to seem more composed than he felt. 

“Theon,” God, just his name seemed to say everything when it came from her. He’d much preferred when she cried it into his neck. The rest of the conversation was unnecessary, at least he told himself so. Truthfully he didn’t want to hear the inevitable let down when she said she’d picked her cruel rich beau instead of him. 

So he cut her off. 

“You look good.” Theon told her, pushing off the wall and stepping forward until they were mere centimetres apart. Close enough to duck into her ear. He could feel her fingertips ghosting over his sweatshirt at his stomach and couldn’t be sure if it was to stop him or if she just felt the need to touch. He could hear her uncertain breath over his ear and he could at least relish in that. “I like the idea of you in my clothes.” But what he meant was clear.  _When you’re with him you’re still with me._

Sansahad always been the type to stress easily, she also hid it well. Theon has never seen her look quite as rattled as she did now, when he leaned away. Not even when he’d fucked her in a public bathroom. Backward priorities, he mused. 

“It’s Robb’s..” she whispered to him, a fake tone of defiance floating on her voice. 

“I gifted it to him a couple years ago.” He’d turned casual again, as if it none of it meant anything. Theon knew it would irritate her and he wanted that. He wanted to stay in her head. 

“Well. I’ll leave you to it.”  _Him_. He gave his standard smirk, that one he gave when he acted as if he was above someone else, and left for the stairs. 

Theon cringed to himself when he heard her singsong back to Joffrey, “Oh no one, just a salesman!”

 

***

The door clicked shut and Sansa rested her head against it with a sigh. This was becoming a common occurrence. Theon would leave and Sansa would end up with her head in her hands, overthinking every second she’d been in his presence. She knew it was an unfair move to ignore Theon the last two weeks, and maybe part of it was a test, to see if it was more than a hook up even though she was sure of the answer anyway. 

She’d never said specifically that she would leave Joffrey though, only that she knew she deserved more, but that was just her justification. She’d told herself she would leave. Sansa was still letting herself down. The current excuse was that he was being too kind, it felt cruel to leave when he was trying to be better. 

Just like last time, she’d been away from her actual boyfriend too long, when her excuse had been so plain and simple. She wandered back into her living room and smiled when she sat down on the sofa, close enough to seem normal, far enough that she felt more comfortable. 

It felt different than it had ten minutes ago, the room feeling too still and too quiet and her feeling anxious over her clothes.  _His_  clothes. Joffrey had absolutely no way to tell who it had belonged to first, but Sansa couldn’t leave the thought that he might suddenly realise and fly off the handle. Silly really, he’d once told her off for wearing one of his button up shirts with her knee socks thinking he’d find it sexy. 

Joffrey lifted the remote to press play on the horror flick he’d picked out, but Sansa quickly reached out and stopped him. “Let’s order a pizza, we could get a bottle of coke and spike it?” She suggested, tentatively resting her hand on his wrist as a little plea to go ahead with her idea. 

Joffrey gave that devious little smile and nodded his head, “Yeah, alright, why not?” Sansa yipped and let out a giggle as she reached for her phone, heading online to their best local and ordered their standard: meat feast because it was his favourite, with stuffed crust because she preferred that, garlic bread and a two litre bottle of coke so they could add rum later. 

The film he'd picked had scared Sansa, jump scares and gore were not things she enjoyed in the slightest. She'd whipped her head away to stop from seeing someone brutalised, and Joffrey squeezed her hand with a mocking laugh. "You're really frightened," he commented, shaking his head at the entire prospect of it. "How embarrassing."

Thankfully Sansa was already tipsy, so his barb hadn't landed as much as it might have sober. She simply laughed, because in a way it could be funny, and she didn't feel like being upset right now. There was too much going on, simplicity was all she wanted, and for the most part that was simple to find when you sat beside Joffrey. He only wanted a few things, easy things, like submission and her body. Theon was a tsunami, he destroyed any semblance of togetherness she liked to feign. There was no sense to him.

It had been so long that she’d been away from the better people in her life, it almost felt unbelievable that someone could like and want more from her. 

She leaned forward to the pizza box on the coffee table, only a few cold slices left, and decided to have one more. She could worry about bloating tomorrow. 

As soon as the credits began to roll, Joffrey was in her space. Hands on her thighs, pushing her to lay back on the sofa, angling himself above her. No foreplay whatsoever, but she supposed the horror porn they’d just watched classed as that for him. 

He pulled her sweatpants down and she took hold of hand, looking for a connection, but his hands were cold and his dead eyes bore down on her. 

As he moved inside her, Sansa turned her head to the side, letting her fingers twist around the hem of the soft grey t-shirt she wore and dreamt of something else. Someone else. 

That it was Theon over her, pressing kisses to her entire face, forehead, cheeks, chin, lips. That his hand would touch her neck before he left little love bites,  marking her as his instead of her boyfriend’s. The way she would run her fingers down the taut muscles of his stomach, and the way he’d smile against her skin when she’d dip her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

He would tell her sweet nothings as he lavished her body with attention, he'd use his mouth on her until she couldn't think beyond him, breath heavy and pleading, legs trembling with the force of it. And when he clambered back over her he'd give that terrible smile, the one that made her legs weak and her stomach do flips, and she'd kiss it off and tell him not to be so smug. 

She'd not kissed him enough the last time, she wanted to spend hours in heated make out sessions with him.

She let out a soft sigh at the fantasy playing out in her head: Theon rocking into her, a hand in her hair with the other propping himself up, devouring her very essence with each moan he pulled from her mouth, thrilled by each whimper of his name, each request for more, each plea not to stop,  _please never stop_.

The part that excited her the most, was the idea that Theon would be as excited as she was. He'd been so silent before, but she imagined him breathing her name, telling her she was beautiful, vocalising every filthy little fantasy he'd ever had of her, all  _fuck_ and  _yes_ and  _god Sansa_ ,  _fuck,_ and his head would drop onto her shoulder when things got a bit much and he tried to last longer, and he'd groan at her nails raking red lines down his back  _and_...

"Oh  _god_ ," Sansa cried out, then covered her mouth because she didn't trust herself not to whine out the name of the man she wanted most. 

And for the first time, Sansa didn't have to fake it with Joffrey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sooooo incredibly surprised by the reaction to the first chapter and I can't thank you all enough for reading. I hope you like this chapter too!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy :)

It was three days after she’d dreamt of Theon while her boyfriend fucked her, when she and Joffrey were out at the mall and he placed a wad of bills in her hand.

“Get yourself something nice.” He’d told her. It was a surprise, and Sansa naively believed that it was because maybe he’d felt they’d finally connected, and he wanted to do something kind to make up for his previous behaviour. It would make things so much easier if that was the case. Instead, he’d carried on. “Maybe something from that expensive lingerie shop, the one I pointed out to you last time.” The corner of his mouth had lifted into a half smile, “I mean, that grey top you wore the other night wasn’t exactly doing anything for me.”

“I love that top, it was-“ She cut herself off, knowing she’d say a name she shouldn’t. “Robb’s.”

“And you think I want to fuck you with your brother between us?” He snapped quickly, and then, sounding softer, “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t,” she lied, and they both knew it. It sounded like an apology when she relented to his will. “I’ll get something really good. You’ll love it.”

He gave a devious smile, pulled her in and planted one right on her mouth.

It was getting easier to placate him, she was learning.

He’d then wandered off, he had a suit fitting this afternoon and she had wondered why he’d asked her to come along. A disappointing reason, it turned out.

It was only because it felt like he might be watching that Sansa went straight to the boutique he kept mentioning.

It was painted a deep purple and had mannequins dressed in items that looked near impossible to put on yourself and it was all so much to take in. She didn’t really know where to start.

Thankfully, but also kind of embarrassingly, a very confident thirty something year old woman strolled over to her.

“Need any help?”

Sansa looked at the woman, about to say no,  but instead all at once a sigh of relief came out and she felt comfortable enough to blurt it out. “Yes. Please. My boyfriend told me to get something nice from here but I don’t know what to get, I don’t know how much of this is  _me_ and I want to look good but-“ _but I’d rather not_. She tried not to think about how she must look like a horrendously inexperienced twenty one year old.

“Okay, it’s okay,” the woman reassured her, placing her hand gently on Sansa’s shoulder. “Let’s start simple. What colours does he like?”  

Sansa took a breath, feeling calmer already. Picking something sexy out for your boyfriend shouldn’t be so stressful, she thought, but he’d been less than receptive in the past. “Red.”

“Okay, red.” The woman smiled and softly guided Sansa towards part of their selection. They spent a good fifteen minutes picking bits and pieces out, until she left the store with a bag filled with delicately wrapped scraps of lace that people claimed were lingerie in red and another strappy set in a baby blue that apparently set off her eyes, a corset, garter belt and stockings. She’d used all of Joffrey’s money, and she wondered if he’d gone online in advance and looked at the prices before he sent her in.

Sansa took a quick look at her watch, Joffrey wouldn’t get out for a good half hour, maybe forty five minutes if he kicked up a fuss. She probably had forty five minutes.

She sighed and started to walk through the mall and outside, to the smaller and less popular, quirky shops. There were brief trips inside stores to mindlessly look at things she didn’t care for, clothes that didn’t excite her, new music that didn’t seem as fresh as it has that morning. Sansa had zoned out, the bag hanging from her forearm seemed far heavier than it should for what little was inside it. Perhaps it was the idea of what would come from it, that had put that extra weight on her shoulders.

Without thought, she had wound up outside Pyke Fishing Stores. It felt as if there was something pulling her there, moving her feet with no conscious aim until she had arrived. The bell had rung when she opened the door and she cringed, she’d wanted to be silent, slip in, get a look and slip out, bringing no attention to herself. She’d screwed that up immediately.

The shop sold a lot, fishing supplies but also freshly caught fish. She didn’t want either, and her hands wrapped around her waist as she slowly made her way down the main aisle. Sansa pretended to look at items, but when it came to the bait she grimaced and pulled away. Joffrey would have loved to see it, she thought briefly.

“Not your scene,” Theon commented, with that lopsided smirk that both thrilled and embarrassed her for having come to him.

“I’ve been thinking of taking up a new hobby.” She lied, and she could tell he knew by the way his mouth quirked and he pressed his lips together.

Theon’s eyes drifted down to the bag in her arm, it was glaringly obvious from the colour, but when he read the name of the store he cringed, realising who it was for, and unfortunately it wasn’t him.

“Does Joffrey fish?” Theon asked, a deflection of his own feelings, willing them both to focus on something other than him for a moment. And maybe he just wanted to dig the knife in, because he felt more spiteful and jealous than he liked to admit.

She frowned, her composure fracturing a moment before she settled and shrugged. “I doubt it. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.” She headed to another shelf and pretended to be interested, before glancing back to him. “Have you heard from Robb lately? He’s been awfully slow with replying to my texts.”

She’d fired the shot right back at him and he had to hold down both his pleased smile and the sudden flare up of guilt, at the reminder that he had fucked his best friend’s little sister. When he was feeling generous with himself, he’d imagine that Robb wouldn’t be furious, that he wouldn’t crack him across the face, and instead that he’d be pleased that someone was there for her while she was a plaything for the Lannister boy.

“Probably just enjoying his happy  _monogamous_ marriage.” He managed to chuck one little quip back in there, and in response Sansa gave a very fake smile that dropped far too quickly to ever be believed.

“Do you have a bathroom?” She suddenly asked, it threw him and he wondered if he’d pushed that button a little too far. You’d have thought he’d have learned from all those times when the were young and he’d tease her for doing her homework the night it was given.

“In the back,” he pointed to the door behind his right shoulder, and she swept past him in a rush.

She tried to convince herself that the unnecessary trip to the bathroom  _wasn’t_ to remind him of the last time she’d left for the bathroom when he was near. Sansa sighed at herself in the mirror, wondering exactly what her own intentions were.

As she shut the door behind her, she saw him now in the back storage with her, and there was a look on his face that she just couldn’t read. Sansa has always placed pride in her ability to read people, but he was always so baffling. He was looking over inventory, lists and lists of boring that she didn’t believe he wanted to be paying attention to. A ploy,  _surely_?

“Why did you come over the other day?” She asked, deciding to channel Margaery and be bold.

“You’re a colossal over thinker.” He lied easily, off the cuff and believable. It annoyed Sansa how easy he found it, but Theon thought she might actually be falling for it. “Didn’t want you fussing over regrets, you’re that type, you know.”

Sansa nodded and he assumed she’d accepted his excuse, he hoped she accepted it at least.

“Plus, I thought you might want my little souvenir back.”

Sansa’s usual features turned sharp to glare at him, but there was a telltale flush rising to her cheeks she couldn’t stop. She’d forgotten, or at least she’d put it to the back of her mind while she was pretending their rendezvous hadn’t happened. Of course, she couldn’t just forget what they’d done. Try as she might, her thoughts wouldn’t stop drifting back to being pressed into a mirror by  _Theon Greyjoy,_  of all people.

“I would, actually.” She spoke firmly, insisting this wasn’t a game but it felt like Sansa needed more telling than him.

Theon pretended to think on it, rubbed his fingers on his chin and everything, but still shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like a souvenir of the one time Sansa Stark did something depraved.”

“Well now, there’s no need to insult yourself.” She retorted, the line firing off with little time to think. He’d annoyed her and it had just tumbled from her mouth.

“Ha ha.” He sarcastically singsonged back to her.  _There she is_ , Theon thought, there’s the wolf the Starks liked to compare themselves with.

“And who says it’s the one time?” She asked, pretending to look at the paperwork he held a pen over.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve slept with other guys behind his back?” Theon asked, his amusement clear in his voice. She didn’t even have to look at him to know the expression on his face.

“No, but I’ve done other things.” Sansa defended, giving a careless shrug of her shoulders.

“Oh, do tell.”

“I stole a bottle of wine from my parents when I was sixteen.” She stated, taking a step towards him.

“You absolute rebel.” He teased, quirking his brows at her.

“I ate a pot brownie at a party last year.” Another step, small and unassuming.

“Tell me you didn’t think it wasn’t just a normal brownie.” She couldn’t, and he liked the way she pursed her lips to stop herself smiling at him.

“I…” Sansa paused, trying to think of another something that made her sound less prim. Except she couldn’t, because he was right. The worst she’d done was with him. She’d been moving closer with every example, and she was far too aware of every part of herself and how with one more step she could touch him.

And she  _really_ wanted to touch him.

“You…” Theon trailed, motioning his hand to encourage her to finish. Or was it to encourage one more step out of her?

“And I got fucked in a public bathroom.” Sansa spoke plainly like it was just one more in a list, like she was saying it to Marge, like it wouldn’t thrill him to hear it. She was watching intently, willing him to kiss her, and from the look on his face, she knew he would.

Theon took her by the back of her neck and kissed her, hard and fast and messy as he guided her up against the wall. She dropped her bags to the floor and grabbed onto him by his belt, slipping her hands up over his stomach. She’d barely gotten to touch him last time and  _Gods_ , Sansa wanted to make up for that.

But Theon might have overtaken her eagerness, because his hands were everywhere all at once while he kissed her like he couldn’t breathe without her. The idea made her groan into his mouth and he returned with a soft laugh. He pulled back from her to unbutton her jeans, and Sansa trailed her mouth along his neck instead. The idea of letting him separate made her whole body ache.

Sansa had taken to wearing skinny jeans when she was around Joffrey in public, the kind you had to dance around in to get on and lie down to peel off.  When she wore skirts he got too handsy, and public sex had never been her thing. Until now, until Theon, and she’d never regretted skinny jeans more in her life.

Finally they popped open and he yanked down the zip, hand slipping beneath her underwear. Theon puffed out a chuckle when he felt her, wet and wanting, and if she wasn’t blushing before she was now.

“ _Theon_ ,” she pleaded, hips rocking against his fingers desperate for some friction. He smirked into her hair, relishing in the gasp that came when his fingers moved inside her.

The fact those noises were for him spurred him on, doing everything he could for one more sigh, another moan, a breathy whisper of his name, or when she’d grit her teeth and try to hold back a cry. Her fingers were digging deep into his shoulders, holding onto him like she’d collapse if he wasn’t pressing her up against the wall. She might have, her legs were buckling and her hips were bucking down against his fingers whenever it all got too much.

Sansa drew in a shaky breath, hand jerking along his shoulders and into his hair. She pulled hard and tipped her head back against the wall, holding his arm in place until she fell apart with a cry.

Theon watched the way her brows furrowed together, and how her kiss bruised lips fell open as she steadied herself. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at the ceiling, breath heavy still. He removed his hand and she let out a sigh, then reached between them and went for his belt.

He was hard against her thigh and she wanted to return the favour, make him feel as good as she did. She’d undone the top button of his jeans when his hand grabbed hers, stopping her in her tracks.

“Sansa…” he started, opening his mouth to say something more, when there was a loud ding from the storefront. He paused and gave a smile that if it had been anyone else, she’d have said it looked almost defeated. “Saved by the bell.”

Theon walked backwards away from her, then put his fingers in his mouth and sucked off any trace of her before he went out to see the customer. It made her whimper, wishing he wasn’t walking away and was going to taste her for real.

Sansa stared after him, unsure what she felt. High from his touch, devastated that he’d stopped her before she could do more. Feeling awkward and suddenly shy, she refastened her jeans and gathered her bags. When she left the back room Theon was leaning over the main counter and she knew he was only doing it to hide his crotch from the customer. The embarrassment of the rejection kept her eyes on the floor as she left, purposefully avoiding their gaze.


	4. Chapter 4

Saved by the bell.  _Saved_  by the fucking bell? What did that even mean,  _saved by the bell_? Sansa wanted to scream the question in his face, shake him by the shoulders and demand an explanation. She’d been certain he wanted her, they’d already hooked up, he’d just had her broken in the palm of his hand, literally, and he  _stopped_  her? Plus, this was  _Theon_. Brags about every conquest Theon, told Robb and Jon about every filthy little thing Theon, ogles at every hot girl  _Theon._ Why would he stop her before she got to pleasure him? That went against everything she knew about him, and only added to the fact that he was one of the very few people she just could not understand. 

He was the most infuriating person she’d ever met.  _Fuck_. 

She’d been trying not to think about it, or him, every day for the past week, but every day she did and every day her mood turned sour. 

It wasn’t how she wanted to feel, especially at this family dinner in her family home with her entire family sitting around her. She’d hated family dinners for a good while now, she wasn’t sure when that started, but it was probably shortly after she started seeing Joffrey. They would pry, and she hated every single question. They would pry even more when they noticed the look of distaste she wore today, but it was hard to keep it off when Theon was sitting a few chairs down on the other side of the table. 

Why was he here? This was a  _family_  dinner. She tried to put it out of her mind that he practically was family, and that everyone in the room would be disgusted by the thoughts she had about him. 

Sansa was doing her absolute best to ignore him, the sting of rejection still fresh. She focused on Rickon, asking about school projects and offering to help if he needed it, and she focused on Arya and asked if she’d finally let that tall boy that fancied her take her out on a date. 

“I don’t want a boyfriend Sansa, I’m not  _you_.”

The room didn’t actually go silent but it felt like it, and Sansa could feel the heat of someone’s gaze boring into her. This was just what Arya was like, she tried to remind herself, it wasn’t an insult. But it felt like an insult. 

“Of course not.” Sansa brushed it off with a fake laugh, then gave up trying to talk to her family at all. Instead, she just pushed her food around her plate, cutting and mushing and moving to distract from the swirling feeling in her stomach. 

“Sansa you’ve barely touched your food,” her mother commented softly, and again it felt like the world’s eyes were on her. 

“I’m just not that hungry,” She told her, giving her best lie of a smile. Catelyn nodded, then smiled. 

“Maybe you’ll want dessert.” Sansa smiled properly at that, even though she didn’t want dessert. It was nice when people remembered your preferences. She was a sweet over savoury girl through and through. 

“Hey, guys,” Robb called out over the noise of the chatter, waving a hand to bring attention to himself. “So, we were going to wait until later, but we just can’t wait any longer.” He had this growing smile on his face, it reminded her of the ones she had in her photo album from when they were children. He looked endlessly excited, and her heart sped up when she realised what was about to happen. 

“We’re pregnant!” He and Talisa had chimed together, and there was a sudden uproar of noise.  

It was then, that she allowed her eyes to go to Theon, and he wore a strange look in his eyes. Disappointment, maybe? But he immediately lifted and slapped Robb’s shoulder.

“Nice one man, congrats.” Theon gave a proper smile as he shook his best friend, and for a moment she wondered why she was never on the receiving end of one of those. 

Sansa pushed that from her head and was out of her seat quicker than anyone else, rushing over to her big brother. He stood as soon as she got close and was almost knocked back by the force of her. She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, mumbling in his ear, “i can’t believe it, I’m gonna be an aunt.” 

Rob laughed, squeezed her back and nodded, “You’re going to be an aunt.” He copied, and then she pulled back to grin brightly at him. The first real smile of her night. 

“You’re gonna be a dad!” She squeezed his shoulders and laughed, then let her mother move in while she went to Talisa. 

Talisa received a softer hug, both because she didn’t want to hurt her, and because she didn’t know the woman all that well. She made Robb happy though, so it didn’t matter. 

“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.” Sansa told her, giving her a kiss on the cheek for good measure before slipping aside and returning to her seat. 

Everyone else was focused on Robb and his wife, so she took that moment to clear her plate. She headed to the kitchen and wiped everything into the bin, rinsed the plate and set it in the dishwasher. Sansa then went to the fridge and got out a bottle of white wine and began pouring herself a glass. 

“On an empty stomach?” 

Sansa paused, eyes going dark with irritation. She didn’t even turn to look at him, just capped the wine and set it back in the fridge. 

“It’s a celebration.” Was all she could think to respond, bringing the drink to her lips as she turned away from him and focused on the dark sky outside the window. There wasn’t much to see but she was pretending it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“And yet,” Theon said, and she grit her teeth because she could hear that stupid smirk through it. “You’re in here, alone.” 

He had approached her silently, to the point he was now pressed against her back. Sansa hated herself for the way her breath hitched, betraying her anger, and being so obvious about what he did to her. 

“Maybe I wanted to be alone.” She told him tersely, raising the wine to her lips again and taking a longer sip. She needed it, she decided. 

Theon reached around her and she couldn’t help but focus on his reflection in the window. It was dark out and she could see more of them than she could the garden. He took the wine glass from her fingers and drank. His eyes were on hers in that reflection, and he knew her thoughts were rushing towards that night in the bathroom. He’d done that on purpose. 

He put the stem of the glass back in her hand and gave that smug smirk when he felt her body lean back into his. 

Things had clicked for Theon the last time he’d seen her. Yes, she’d wanted him to fuck her, but she also had a bag of lingerie for Joffrey, and he’d realised that as much as she’d changed over the years, he was still too lowborn for her. That’s why she was still with Lannister, it was the family name. It was like that argument they’d had when she was seventeen, about how she only bought perfumes for the brand name, even if the knockoff smelled the same.  _The brand is what matters_ , she’d said. Well, Joffrey was the brand name, and he was the cheap knockoff. 

If that was the case, he’d decided once he was alone that night with a six pack of beer and a take out to himself, then he’d mess with her. Mess with her head. Wreck things for her and Joffrey, make her think of him when she should be thinking of her highborn fuckwit. She clearly wasn’t satisfied with him in the bedroom, or else she’d never had let Theon touch her. At least he could always hold that above Joffrey Lannister, and being better in bed was something he would always pride himself on. 

And his actions were definitely not spurred on by the fact that Robb would also be lost to him in six months, and that everything would change and his place in this household felt like it was shattering where he stood. Definitely not. 

He brushed her hair out of the way and pressed a single warm kiss to the base of her neck. Sansa sighed and it sounded like relief, ever so soft, and like she’d forgotten any reason she’d ever had. 

Reason would tell her to stop him, tell her that her family could walk in at any time, that she had a boyfriend and this was wrong. But reason fell apart when Theon Greyjoy touched her. 

And as quickly as he’d gotten close to her, he was gone. “Sansa,” he dipped his head towards her before disappearing back into the dining room. 

She let out a heavy breath that she felt like she’d been holding, gripped onto the counter and tipped her head forward. She wanted to cry out, what was he trying to do to her? The turmoil helped her finish her wine in a few gulps, and she had to desperately force herself not to think about his lips, or the way the muscles in his neck had moved when he drank from her glass. 

She set the glass down, shook her head to bring herself together again, then went back to the fridge to fill her cup once more. 

“Sansa, there you are!” She heard her mother enter the kitchen, holding plates and cutlery in each hand. “Help me with the desserts will you?” 

“Of course, in the fridge?” 

“Yes, I’ll get the crumble and custard.” 

Sansa smiled at her and set the wine bottle back, and took out instead a key lime pie that she assumed Robb and Talisa had brought over. Her mother wouldn’t have made it. 

She set the pie down in the centre of the table and her wine beside her empty bowl, again not really feeling the want to eat. She helped serve everyone else though, cutting slices and serving anyone that wanted pie over crumble (or in Rickon’s case, both). When everyone had something she settled back into her seat, wrapped one arm over her stomach and held her wine in one hand as she watched, a slow warm feeling filling her entire body as the alcohol took hold.  

“Sans,” she heard Theon call out, and was half surprised with the nickname. He was holding a bowl out to her and she assumed it was for a pie refill, but when she took it from him there was still half a slice left. “I’m stuffed, you finish it.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes as she brushed her hair behind her shoulder and leant forward, picking up a clean spoon. “Eyes bigger than your stomach as usual.” She told him, before starting to eat. 

She left the house with Arya who’d offered her a ride home rather than getting a cab, and Theon followed them out to his own car. 

“Pregnant.” Arya said leaning against her car door while Theon dug for his keys in every pocket he had on him. “It’s quick, no?” 

Trust Arya to find an issue with Robb and Talisa’s happiness, Sansa thought, but she was tipsy enough to not bother starting the fight. She’d lose. 

Instead, Theon laughed and started singing, loud and to the sky, that Billy Idol song.  

“ _Hey little sister, who’s the one you want? Hey little sister, shot gun!_ ” He mimed the pumping action of a large gun and pointed it at Sansa, and there was that smirk he always wore. “ _It’s a nice day to start again, it’s a nice day for a- white wedding._ ” 

Arya laughed and Sansa tried not to. It was the alcohol she blamed for the grin she wore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like filler to me, but I hope you enjoy anyway


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> needed to take a break after a crisis of confidence, but after listening to Easier by 5 Seconds of Summer on repeat for days the muse came back. Hope you enjoy :)

Sansa pulled the dress over her shoulders and shimmied it down past her hips until it hit her upper thigh. Joffrey has bought it for her for Christmas, and in any normal situation she could probably class it as lingerie. It was black lace and verging on sheer, with lacing all the way down. It reminded her of a corset. It probably didn’t need a bra, but she wore one anyway. The red and black set she’d bought didn’t suit her, she’d decided, after staring at herself in the mirror for an hour. She’d looked like a doe in the headlights. Her confidence wasn’t quite high enough to try and wear that, and Joffrey would hate it if she wore it while looking timid and frightened of his response. He’d tell her not to pander for compliments.

The blue set though, the blue set was  _Sansa_. Every inch of it looked like it belonged on her body, so even though it might not have suited this sex get up she wore for her boyfriend, she doubted he’d really care about how it clashed.  

She ran a brush through her hair and pulled it over one shoulder, then went out to his kitchen.

She was cooking his favourite meal and the whole thing was to be a surprise, she wanted him to walk through the door and smell it, then he’d walk into the kitchen and see Sansa in this skimpy dress he’d badgered her to wear and stiletto heels, and later, he’d unwrap her and see the lingerie he’d paid for, for the first time.

The guilt of Theon had her hiding them for a fortnight.

Sansa checked her phone for the time, knowing Joffrey’s routine like clockwork. He’d be back any minute, so she grabbed the corkscrew from the drawer and when she heard the door unlocking, she grabbed the wine from the fridge and headed through to greet him.

“Joff, I’ve got a surprise for you!” She singsonged, clicking her way to him. Things had gone silent, weirdly silent, and she saw why once she spotted Joffrey, frozen in place with his two uncles and Mr Clegane, who, from what Sansa could tell, was just a general dogsbody in the company.

There were appreciative eyes running over her form and none of them belonged to her boyfriend. She didn’t even have the presence to feel embarrassed by the dress, or that handsome uncle Jaime wore that stupid know-it-all smile that he always wore, or that Sandor was clearly memorising everything about her in this outfit.

Tyrion, kind and ever helpful Tyrion, cleared his throat and touched Joffrey’s arm. “Perhaps we should come back another time.” He suggested, but Sansa knew from the look on Joffrey’s face that it wasn’t a good idea.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, shrugging his uncle away before he stormed at Sansa. The young Lannister grabbed her upper arm and pushed her into the dining room. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled in her face, up close and personal, not even being quiet for the sake of his uncles and employee hearing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just wanted to surprise you.” She spoke softly, and unless the other men had come closer they wouldn’t have heard.

“How fucking humiliating, don’t you realise how stupid you’ve made me look?” He pushed her arm as he let it go, her shoulder hitting the wall behind her.

“I’m sorry, really, I just thought it would be nice.” It sounded like a plea, and after setting down the wine and opener, her hands had gone to his shoulders in an attempt to bring him back on side.

“Get out.”

“What?” She paused, fingers stilling.

“Get out. I don’t want you here while I’m working. Get. Out.” He curled his fingers around her wrists and yanked them off his shirt, dropping them as soon as he possibly could.

“Okay.” She accepted, and this time when she saw the three men waiting in the entrance foyer, embarrassment was all she felt. She went to the kitchen and took the now cooked meal from the oven and set it on the counter.

She stalked her way to the bedroom and grabbed her coat, thankful it was cold out and she’d brought the one that reached her knees. Sansa unplugged her phone, shoved it in her handbag and went to leave.

Nothing had felt more demeaning than walking past the three men, Tyrion had given her a sympathetic and knowing look that made her want to throw herself out the window. Kindness in this moment was too much, so she supposed she was grateful that Sandor didn’t look caring at all. More like he wanted to say ‘how could you expect anything else’, and if he had, she wouldn’t have had an answer.

Jaime looked conflicted, but it felt like he was leaning towards Tyrion’s position, so she simply gave the men a flash of her most winning smile, “There’s food in the kitchen. Have a good night.”

Courteous as ever, even in her absolute humiliation.

Outside, she pulled her coat over her shoulders and tied the belt around her waist, pulled out her phone and started walking.

Less than three minutes into her walk home, the silence got to her and she pulled her phone out.

The first call went to Marge but it went to voicemail, and she huffed to herself remembering her best friend had told her of a tinder date that was happening tonight.

Second call was difficult to choose, but it went to Arya in the end.

“Sansa? What’s up?”

Sansa rarely called her sister, they had a text based phone relationship. “Oh, not much. Just… wondering if you wanted to hang out?”

“Oh.” Arya paused, then her words came out in a near incomprehensible flurry. “ _ItotallywouldyouknowSansbutIcan’tcauseI’moutatthemomentwithGendryandit’sjustnotthebesttime_.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open, smirking slightly. “Gendry? Isn’t that the boy that like-“

“Shut up!” Arya cut her off, making the redhead laugh which she hadn’t thought possible in her current mood.

“Next time, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” And with that Arya hung up.

Calls went out to Robb who didn’t answer, to Jon who apologised but he had Ygritte over, to Jeyne who seemed to be in a club or something, she could barely hear Sansa over the loud music.

Sansa grumbled to herself and gave up, aware there was  _someone_ she could call, but she refused it. Instead, when passing a corner shop, she made her way inside and rolled her eyes at the bell overhead.

Trawling the aisles ended up with a basket of two premixed pornstar martinis, (something she blushed to order in public), a bottle of white wine, gummy bears, pretzels and the biggest chocolate bar they owned.

She received a strange look from the lady behind the counter, but she simply ignored it and pulled her coat tighter around herself.

Taking off her heels in her apartment was the ultimate relief, even though her feet had to adjust to being flat once again.  

She picked out a wine glass and settled on the sofa. There were so many channels on the tv and yet nothing to watch, or nothing she felt like watching. In the end she put on a string of Brooklyn Nine Nine reruns.

Two cocktails and half a bottle of wine down and Sansa was gone. She’d always been a lightweight, but when she’d been still it had been harder to realise quite how affected she was. She’d watched something like fifteen episodes and she’d sung along to the theme song every time, and every time laughed at Boyle hitting his head on the counter.

There was a buzz from her phone and Sansa palmed around for it until she found it tucked under a pillow. She’d hidden it from herself when she was considering texting someone. Joffrey or Theon, it didn’t matter, both were bad ideas.

“ _When did tinder get so fucking sleazy?_ ” Sansa laughed to herself, then typed her response.

“ _It allllwlaasys been sleazy Margey. How early did tou leave???_ ”

“ _I didn’t ;)_ _You alright Sans?_ ”

“ _Allllllll goood just to mych wine_ ”

Sansa grabbed a handful of gummy bears and shovelled them into her mouth, sighed at the screen and then called the person she always turned to in her moments of greatest strife.

“Ugh, voicemail.” She grumbled, letting it go to the beep before she spoke again.

“Robb! You never answer your phone I swear you should just chuck it in the bin or something it’s so wasted on you.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I miss you,” she sighed, sliding down her sofa and resting her feet on her coffee table, running her toes back and forth over the edge. “I spent so long cooking and cleaning and making myself pretty and wearing this stupid dress he bought me and he comes home with his uncles and his assistant and they’re all staring at me, and then he _kicks me out_ because he says I’m an embarrassment! An embarrassment Robb, because I tried to do something nice for him, how fucked is that?” Sansa let out a muffled laugh, and it was so clearly hollow, so clearly hiding the tears that were welling in her eyes. “You’re a guy, why are guys such dicks? Since when did your girlfriend showing affection become a bad thing? I just wanted to do something nice, I’ve been such a shit girlfriend recently, literally the worst, like gum on your shoe kind of bad, and I just really wanted to do something he’d like and I even messed that up!” She wiped a tear from her cheek and reached out for a pretzel, talking with her mouth full. “You’re probably sleeping, all you can get before the baby comes, right?”

Then Sansa hung up and wiped her eyes properly, wishing more than anything to feel better. She hated this, hated that Joffrey could do this to her. She hated that Theon could wreck her too. When did men ensnare her so much that they could snap her in two like a boa constrictor? Probably when she was three and was told stories of princesses and knights.  _Fuck_ , even Super Mario made her tear up for how far he’d go for Princess Peach.

All of a sudden the loud and cheerful sounds of the sitcom were too much, grating on her nerves and she switched it off and watched the screen go black. Phone in hand, Sansa stood and immediately lost her balance, falling forward but grabbed the coffee table for stability. The dizziness was sudden and overwhelming, the severity of her drinking hitting her in one fell swoop. Sansa stumbled her way into her bedroom and started tugging at the spagetti strap on her shoulder, pausing when she saw herself in the mirror. She wasn’t a vain person, and when she was sober she would never think something quite so forward, but she looked great. It made absolutely no sense that Joffrey had sent her away, he should have kicked his posse out and taken her there and then. They could’ve reheated their dinner afterwards. She pulled her long hair to the side and went into her camera, switching it to a video and clumsily pressed on the red.

Sansa smoothed her free hand down her body and did a slow twirl, capturing the dress from behind. Sansa smiled to her reflection, then ended the recording and dropped the phone on her bed. The dress took a few shimmies to get off and the room span as she did, but as soon as she was out of it, she went for her phone again.

She probably snapped thirty photos in varying poses, showing off the baby blue underwear and her long legs, and then spent twenty minutes scrolling through until she’d picked her favourites. She felt sexy, powerful, it was a good feeling after feeling so desperately low for the past few hours. She wanted to show someone, to feel beautiful.  _Wanted_. But her options were limited, and the idea of sending these to Joffrey made her want to cry.

No, that wasn’t an option. He didn’t deserve it, he’d turned her away earlier when she’d tried to please him so why should she try to please him a second time. He ought to apologise, not her.

“Fuck it,” She murmured, opening snapchat and scrolling through her contacts. She’d never contacted him on the app before, and opened up a new thread. Sansa didn’t say anything, no messages, just the video in the dress, and five separate pictures of the lingerie she sported, and then she waited in anticipation.

——

Theon didn’t sleep well most nights, his sleep schedule was so incredibly fucked. It didn’t matter that he had work in the morning, he only ever managed four hours a night max. He fell asleep on sofas during the day, and people would call him lazy for it. So here he sat at three in the morning, cigarette between his lips and playing Rickon’s Switch that he’d been allowed to borrow. He loved that kid, nothing but generous despite Theon’s terrible track record for returning things on time.

His phone beeped over and over in quick succession and, interest piqued due to the time, immediately paused his game and went for his phone. It was a surprise when he saw Sansa’s name grouping together six messages. He typed his passcode and went into the app, then into the video.

His jaw practically dropped at the sight of Sansa, long and lean and dressed to fucking kill, in some black lace lingerie  _thing_ that he just wanted to tear off her. No, he wanted to sit her on the kitchen counter and hike it up around her hips, and kiss her bare chest to her neck. Theon stubbed out his cigarette and leaned forward, his breath short and heart hammering as he stared unblinking at the image of her turning in a slow circle to show every inch of it.

Sansa had read his mind in advance, when the next image opened and he saw her stood tall, in nothing but a pretty pastel blue bra and knickers. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, and if anyone was around he might have been ashamed.

Every image she’d sent had him completely and utterly fucked, a whirlwind of desperation and  _want_ and good fucking lord he didn’t know if he could breathe. Theon wanted to screenshot them, but he knew better than to be that shitty.

Still, the memory was enough, ingrained in him for life now. He’d never forget a single detail.

And as he leaned back and closed his eyes, Theon snaked his hand beneath the band of his sweats, and eventually he came to the thought of her.


	6. Chapter 6

Theon felt half embarrassed by how quickly he’d texted Robb back at the invitation to have lunch. When he looked at the timings of the texts, they’d come within the same minute as each other. The excuse he gave himself was it was a dull day at work, fuck all to do, and it was definitely not out of guilt. Definitely not because of the internal panic that he’d never get to spend time with Robb alone once the baby came. 

“ _Where’d you wanna go?_ ” He sent a second text.

“ _I need a burger._ ” Robb replied equally quick to his second text, so he felt calmer. Robb never had anything to be guilty of. He often felt jealous of that, when he felt guilty of his own existence. 

“ _I’m in_ ”

Nobody shopped for fishing supplies in the morning and watching the clock was painful. He struggled not to think about the pictures he’d seen the night before, but he tried, watching gaming videos on YouTube until his lunch hour, pausing every now and then to stare at his saved messages on Snapchat and considered messaging Sansa, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want that. 

Robb was already sat down when he arrived at the burger joint they’d agreed on. It was their usual, the one where they’d spent many a drunk night needing a late night meal. Theon realised it would be day time meals from now on, and tried not to be disappointed by it. He was nearly twenty eight, after all. 

Ordering was almost unnecessary, the waitress knew them and their orders, but they went through the rigmarole anyway, considering the menu despite both knowing they’d order the same as they always did. 

“Y’alright?” Theon asked, because truly, Robb didn’t look it. 

Their drinks were placed down, coffee for Robb, Sprite for Theon. He could’ve scoffed at Robb’s attempt to be grown up, but then he always had been. 

“Yeah,” Robb answered quickly, tipping a creamer into his cup. “Actually.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, and that’s when Theon started to worry. Usually Robb only stressed internally, so seeing it written all over him was cause for concern. “I got this voicemail from Sansa last night.” 

_ Shit. Shit shit  **fuck** and shit.  _

“She was completely wasted, I’d never heard her like that before.”

Theon swallowed hard and tried not to let the panic show all over his face but it wasn’t easy. He lifted his glass and held it in front of his face as he spoke. She wouldn’t have said anything about them,  _right_? “Oh? What did she say?” He sipped and set the glass down, but almost immediately started toying with his watch. 

"It was long and she was slurring her words so it was hard to understand. She wasn't really making much sense." 

"But you got the gist of it?" Gods, if Robb was about to rip him limb from limb then his dragging it out was plain cruel. 

"She was crying and she said something about cooking and cleaning and dressing up and he kicked her out and weren't boyfriends supposed to like suprises like that. Said she was an embarrassment and a shit girlfriend." 

Theon let out the breath he'd been holding but it was only partial relief, the rest was still worry for Sansa. Robb hadn't specified a time so he couldn't figure out if the photos were done before or after, but the idea that she had been crying either side of sending nudes to him, and he'd used for his own selfish needs, sent self hatred washing over him. 

"I'm such a shit brother." Theon hadn't seen Robb so rattled in years, not since Robb had seen Theon getting bullied as a child, both at home and at school. He'd had to hold the younger boy back from going off on both his father and Ramsay Bolton. He couldn't see him become the target too. 

"No, Robb, you aren't. Absolutely not, this is on Joffrey. He's a shit boyfriend and shit guy, we've always known that. I mean, look at his parents! He had no chance of being a decent-"

"She said she missed me, Theon. She was crying and she said she missed me. I'm her  _brother_ , and she feels like I'm not here." 

"You've just gotten married and you've got a baby on the way and she understands, I know she understands. More than anyone."

"You don't know that." 

"I do, trust me." 

Robb scoffed, maybe because he was in that mood where no one could reassure him of anything, or maybe it was the idea that Theon would know anything real about Sansa. 

"I don't know what to do." 

"You can't make her leave him." Neither could Theon apparently, despite the cheating. "Did you call her?" 

"She said she didn't want to talk about it." Sansa had messaged the same thing to Theon that morning, he'd saved the message and stared at it repeatedly until the text felt ingrained on his brain.

"She'll talk when she's ready. Maybe to one of her girls? Margaery? Could you get her to speak to her?"

"I could, but I want to. She misses me." 

Theon gave a slow nod, but sort of hoped that Sansa wouldn't tell him  _everything_. One day Robb would have to find out, especially if they were to be serious, but that was an issue for another day. "She'll figure it out." 

Robb half grunted and half nodded, and Theon took that to mean the conversation was over, he had no real advice to offer anyway.

\---------

Waking up, Sansa's head had been pounding and slowly regret pooled within her as every memory of last night played in her mind. There was a lot of wine, a lot of nine-nine, texts with Marge, a call to Robb that made her want to cry again, and the photos to Theon that made her want to die of embarrassment. Despite the headache and really not wanting to see the screen, she tapped inside and deleted every saved photo of herself, as if that would free her of the shame. 

She had missed calls from Robb, a couple texts from friends but nothing about her, and a few snapchat messages from Theon which she'd fallen asleep before seeing. Sansa had hovered over his name for minutes before finally opening them and reading. He was professing her beauty and asking that she come over, then an apology, then just a question of her name after she'd disappeared on him. 

" _I don't want to talk about it._ " She texted then closed the app, letting the messages disappear, and it felt like they took a piece of her heart with her. 

\---------

" _I don't want to be this person_." Sansa's text had both surprised him and sent him into high alert, desperately not ready for whatever was coming next. It was all too much: Sansa last night, Robb at lunch, now her again once he'd made it back to his store. The Starks were on a quest to fuck him up, it seemed. Theon half expected Arya to pop out and kick him in the balls. 

" _What person?_ "

" _The cheating girlfriend._ "

" _Have you considered that it's the "girlfriend" part that's the issue?_ "

" _Don't_."

" _You don't want him._ "

" _Theon_."

" _I'm right_."

She never responded after that, and Theon assumed it was because Sansa so desperately liked to be right herself, it must have been torture for her to admit that he was instead. 

\--------

Mid intense text session when she felt like she might cry there was a knock at her door. She didn't want to answer, suspecting her brother was sick of the unanswered questions and had come over to demand them in person. It was more surprising when she opened the door to a very apologetic looking Joffrey in the hall. He looked smaller than normal, as if the bravado he usually wore added an extra few inches to his height. She imagined he'd have liked that, he wasn't fond of the fact that she'd teetered into being taller than him. 

"Joffrey," She breathed, and he gave a false smile. 

"I shouldn't have done it." 

"It was humiliating, Joff. Your uncles and Clegane saw me like that and you completely rejected me, like I disgusted you." 

"God, Sansa no. Never, you looked.." He shook his head, making a near passible attempt at being sorry. "I just...want my family to take me seriously, you know? So many guys like me, they've got their nepotistic job and they're out being mad partiers and work is just an inconvenience. I hated the idea they'd see me the same way, and see you as some play thing." 

Nowhere was there an apology, and Sansa felt inside that it wasn't entirely sincere, it was an excuse. There was always an excuse. But her head was so screwed up and her heart couldn't hold still half the time these days, and he was here and he wore that boyish hopeful smile that had lured her in the first time, and Gods, he was so  _easy_.

Sansa reached her hand out, took him by the collar and pulled him inside. She kissed him first, immediately letting her fingers go to his belt, and she took a twist of pain and joy when she realised that he'd not pulled away like Theon had. No, he was in for it, happy to indulge her desperation for affection. She hated to encourage the incorrect idea he surely held,  _treat them mean, keep them keen_. She pulled his shirt off and dragged him towards her bedroom. 

It was a shame that desperation didn't translate into passion. Sure, this was the most eager she'd been for Joffrey, possibly ever, but it still felt empty. He was moving inside her and yet she felt cold and more alone than ever, entirely hollow. 

She stared up at him and couldn't even fake adoration, instead forcing sighs and moans rising slowly in volume until she went still, then gasped out as if he'd just given her the most mind blowing sex of her life. He came quickly after, and the grunt was the only noise he'd made the entire time. She hated that sound, hearing it was like nails on a chalkboard, Sansa had to desperately try not grimace, and try even harder not to let her mind wander to a man whose every move excited her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats happening? who knows


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa could have stabbed her fork into the wooden table, but they were in public and this wasn't a table belonging to her family. Causing a scene would be humiliating. Instead she was scraping the fork along her napkin and tearing it to shreds.

Her irritation was two fold, but it felt a thousand fold. 

Firstly, they were at  _another_ family dinner. Her mother had insisted over and over that they do something nice to celebrate Robb and Talisa's announcement, as if it hadn't been announced at a family dinner, as if they wouldn't be having a baby shower in a few months. Sansa felt bad that she was so bitter and miserable when this should have been something that would have her grinning ear to ear, bouncing off the walls, knitting a million baby shoes and socks and jumpers. Recently things had felt that way though, a dark cloud seeping over her vision and putting an ugly twist on her usual views. 

The sound of people laughing was grating on her nerves. Well, the sound of  _two_ people laughing. The second irritation. 

Theon, sat on the other side of the table, entertaining a drop dead gorgeous blonde.

She could have been critical and said that the blonde's fringe sat at an awkward point on her cheek, or that her lipstick was a too pink shade of red to suit her skintone, or that the cowl neck dress verged on slutty. Except Sansa didn't like being judgemental of other women, and her hair looked beautifully fluffy, it even made her consider bleaching her red, and the pink almost gave her that effortless bitten lip look, and the dress was fabulous and she wore it so confidently, she could be jealous. 

Sansa refused to be jealous, flat out refused, but that didn't stop her gritting her teeth when the blonde touched Theon's arm and laughed. 

She sighed beneath her breath and looked at her phone instead but that didn't lift her spirits much. No texts from Joffrey. It wasn't a surprise really, she'd invited him and he'd refused again. He'd told her that he was too busy to waste his time on something so tedious. Sansa would have been insulted but she wasn't exactly having fun herself. 

" _Save me. When did family stuff get so painful?_ " She fired off to Margaery. Sure it was dramatic, but Marge knew that Sansa could be. 

Not long after came in the response: " _have a glass of wine and you'll relax babe, it's not as bad as you think"._ Sansa frowned at the response, where was the unconditional backup that her best friend usually gave her?! Despite the annoyance she took advice and reached out for the glass on the table and took a sip, then another three. Fast tracking the relaxation, she told herself. If she thought rationally Sansa knew that Marge had responded like that for a reason. The reason was what her far-too-smart-for-her-own-good friend had been hinting at for the past couple months: that she'd only started disliking time with her family when she started dating Joffrey. Sansa could semi see the correllation but she was setting it aside, boyfriends weren't supposed to make you hate time with your family. 

"You're very dressed up." Arya pulled her from her thoughts and Sansa forced a chuckle. 

"Yeah, suppose I am." She'd thought the low cut black mini dress would tempt Joffrey into coming along with her. It hadn't worked. Suddenly feeling incredibly aware of her bare shoulders, she pulled her long hair forward and let it cover the majority of her chest. At the sound of another flirtatious laugh Sansa leaned forward, head in hand and elbow on the table, and angled herself to her baby sister. "Do you think its...  _weird_ that Theon's brought a date to a family dinner?"

Arya pulled a face, looked at Theon and his date, then back to her sister. "I don't know, not really?" Sansa furrowed her brows and shrugged her shoulders.

"It seems off to me."

"You're just annoyed Joffrey didn't come. Again." At Sansa's glower Arya just laughed. "If I hadn't met the sod I'd think you were making him up!"

"He was busy, and it's awkward. He and Robb don't get on."

"He doesn't get on with anyone."

"That's not true-" Sans started to defend, but she was silenced by the knowing look on her sister's face. "Alright fine." She waved her hand as a brush off, rolling her eyes as she looked away. "When are you gonna invite your guy?"

"I don't  _have_ a guy." Arya replied far too quickly and far too emphasised for it to seem casual, and Sans was able to give a knowing look of her own back to her sister.

"Oh come  _on_. You know I know. I'm not an idiot." She made her point with a sip of her wine, smirking the entire time. "It's cute."

"Ugh, don't say that! It makes me feel like a six year old." 

"Fine, but is this you finally admitting that it's happening?"

"Alright, yes! But to you only, so leave it alone at these do's, yeah?"

"Deal." She grinned at her sister, giving her a little nudge with her elbow. "My baby sister..."  _has a boyfriend._ She didn't finish the sentence, but Arya knew exactly what she was going to say from the lilt in her voice. Sans held the wine in front of her mouth and looked back to the rest of the table, purposefully avoiding Robb's eye. He'd been trying to get her alone for days and she had masterfully avoided it at all costs. It was hard to predict how that conversation would go, but Sansa had a strong feeling it would end up with her in tears and blurting the truth, and she couldn't face that. "Arya, if I tell you something, can you promise not to judge me?" 

"Sorry, what? You don't want to feel judged and you're coming to  _me_?" It was no secret that the pair of them had been each other's harshest critics, their getting along was a rollercoaster. They happened to be in a high spot at the moment. If she was confessing to family it would have been Robb, it had always been Robb. It hurt to go elsewhere. 

"I could go to Marge if you can't do that for me." Sansa stated haughtily, offended that her sister was questioning it at all. 

"No no no! I can do it. Tell me." 

Sansa opened her mouth to speak but the sound of Theon speaking louder, cracking some joke, had her pause. "In a sec. I need to go to the bathroom." 

"Want me to join?" It would be easier to tell her in the bathroom, but Sansa wanted a minute to herself. She also knew that the minute to herself might help her talk herself out of telling Arya, which was the smart move. She shook her head no, excused herself to whoever was listening, and left the table. 

Sansa felt like a bit of a cliche with the amount of times she left a group to go and compose herself, if she thought about it she supposed it was because more and more it felt as if she was putting up fronts between herself and those around her. She didn't like to think about it though, the idea of pretending so often wore on her heart. A toilet break shouldn't be the most enjoyable part of a night out. 

After washing her hands and sighing at her reflection, another moment of judgement over her outfit, she left the bathroom and headed down the corridor, only to come face to face with Theon. 

"Oh," She blurted in shock, "Hey."

"Alright?" He always sounded so endlessly casual and Sansa wished he would let her know the trick to it, god knows she needed it. 

"Mmhm." She nodded, maybe too enthusiastically. "She seems really nice." Sansa didn't have it in her to use the word  _date_ , but she wasn't letting herself think about why it was so hard.

"Oh, yeah," Theon turned slightly, as if looking back to their table and his blonde, then returned his gaze to her. "You look nice." 

The compliment sent a flare of embarrassment through her, becoming incredibly aware of the fact he'd seen those photos. He'd seen her in bikinis before but it somehow felt different when it was her underwear. It was silly, they'd had sex and yet somehow the photos made her feel more awkward in his presence.

Sansa wondered if he thought this look was for him. She had to admit that after seeing his blonde she was pretty glad that she had actually dressed up. 

"Thank you." 

"I didn't realise this was supposed to be a fancy thing." He sounded both as if it was a joke at her expense, and entirely serious at the same time. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt and a check shirt over the top but he'd taken that off when it got warm. The other guys at the table hadn't gone full out either, but Robb wore a proper dress shirt and Bran was in a plain navy jumper. No one expected Rickon to wear anything other than his usual sweatshirt. 

"Yeah well, you know me, any reason to glam up." He chuckled and it allowed Sansa a moment to relax, laughing along with him. "You- you look good. Don't worry about it." She blurted, shutting her eyes and cursing herself internally for sounding like a teenager. It was true though, even if her mother would have hated the outfit, Sansa had been struggling not to focus on his arms, and how they should be wrapped around her. 

"Sansa," She brought herself back to reality and raised her brows at the use of her name. He had a familiar expression on his face, the one from the bathroom, the ' _is this okay_ ' look, a gentle question but with hunger in his eyes. Sansa felt entirely breathless and gave the tiniest of nods. He took two steps towards her, pushed her back against the corridor wall and just as Sansa thought he would kiss her, he paused, letting his eyes roam her features. It was all terribly intimate, Sansa didn't think anyone had every looked at her like that before. She slid her hands to his neck and pulled him in, feeling she might crack under his gaze. 

The kiss was soft at first, gentle, but when Sansa looped her arm around his shoulders and let the other rest on his chest, pushing her hips forward against his, Theon started getting handsy. One arm snaked around her waist, keeping her entirely pressed against him, and the other grabbed at her ass. Sansa keened into him and drew her leg up his own, and he took the opportunity to slide his hand beneath her skirt. She kissed along his stubbled jaw and he ducked down to press hot kisses down her neck.

" **Ahem**." They both heard someone clear their throat at the scene, and together they froze in shock and turned, sharing similar thoughts of  _please not Robb_.

To their mutual relief, it turned out to be an older woman wearing a fancy string of pearls giving them a look of pure disdain. 

"This is a restaurant, not a brothel." The woman snapped at them, then walked by with her chin raised as if the pair were beneath her. 

They let her leave, still shocked into paralysis. Theon looked to Sansa, aware that the reaction would define things between them, that if she was too humiliated by the moment there was a likely chance that he'd never have the chance to touch her again. The idea was truly painful, he wasn't sure he could live in that world. 

"Oh my god!" Sansa suddenly burst out laughing, ducking her head into his shoulder to hide the blush on her cheeks. After an internal sigh of relief, Theon began to laugh. It was infectious and it was hard to stop even though they both knew they ought to. Sansa turned her head and rested her forehead on his jaw, letting out a final giggle as she lowered her leg. She pressed her lips together and sighed, "I suppose we ought to go back." 

"Yeah," He agreed, fighting the urge to press a kiss to her temple. He could do that if he was her boyfriend, but it felt off limits as an affair.  _Fuck it._  He did it anyway, and when she smiled he pulled away from her with a vague feeling of hope. "I've got to go to the bar, that's where I said I was." 

"Yeah okay, probably best we go separately anyway." She agreed, heading to the exit and giving him a quick glance back before she left for the table.

"Jeez Sansa, what the fuck took so long?!" Arya questioned when she sat back beside her. The redhead shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her wine, feeling the need to calm her nerves because it felt like everything she'd just done was written across her forehead for her sister to read. 

"There was a line." Sansa made the excuse and picked up a piece of garlic bread from the basket between her and where Rickon sat opposite. 

"Are you going to tell me now?" Sansa shook her head in response, this wasn't the time or place to reveal it. She wasn't sure she should tell anyone at all. Ever. "Oh come on! That's so not fair, you can't drop a bombshell and then  _not tell me_! I've been coming up with ideas the entire time you were gone. Did you secretly get a giant tattoo all over your back? Did you fail a class? Did you-"

"Okay okay!" Sansa cut her off, the constant guesses breaking her down and besides, her family would start listening at some point and realise that she was keeping something to herself. When they all looked at her expectantly she'd tell them everything and probably ugly cry. "I can't say it out loud, okay?" 

"Just text it to me," Arya suggested, and Sans quickly shook her head. 

"I can't have anyone else see this. I'll type it and show you." 

Sansa took up her phone and felt her breath going unsteady, she struggled to type the words ' _I had sex with Theon_ ', but she finished the note, checked that he still hadn't come back to the table, then angled the phone to her sister.

Arya leaned over her shoulder to see the screen, then took in a sharp breath.

" _WHAT?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever cause i usually write on my phone but with the stupid heatwave there was no way i was gonna hold a hot iphone


	8. Chapter 8

"You did what?! Seriously? When? Just now?" Arya questioned, getting overexcited and far too loud for Sansa's liking. "Oh my god that's why you asked about him bringing a date! Oh my god Sansa, this is insane! You've got to tell me everything!!" 

"Shut up shut up shut up!" Sansa whisper yelled at her sister, face stern as she grabbed hold of Arya's hands to still her, the sharp flailing movements were going to draw attention. "Shit, he's coming back  _be quiet_  or I start talking about Gendry again okay?!"

Arya immediately frowned, "You wouldn't."

"You're about to blurt  _the worst thing I've ever done_  to the entire table. Try me." 

Arya relented at that, slumping back in her chair. "Fine. But you are going to tell me everything later." 

“Shut. Up.” Sansa angrily muttered through her gritted teeth, trying to keep her face light and open and like she wasn’t on the verge of heart palpitations. 

Realistically, Sansa knew this secret couldn’t be secret forever, nothing stayed secret forever, but she’d really appreciate if it wasn’t told to her entire family by her sister. 

“Bad as in...  _bad_?” Arya said, not lowering her voice even slightly. “I always imagined tha-“ 

“Arya!”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah but as if anyone would ever believe you’d imagined  _Joffrey_...” Her sister visibly recoiled, disgusted at the mere thought. Sansa couldn’t imagine Arya imagining Theon either, but it was different. Theon has a reputation and it had always seemed to the two Stark girls that he tried hard to keep that positive. 

“Okay, you’re right.”

Sansa lifted her wine glass and rested her forehead on the cool glass, eyes closing as she sighed her relief. “Thank you.”

She opened her eyes when she felt eyes on her, giving a soft smile immediately, expecting it to be her mother that stared. She followed around the table and instead saw Theon with a look that she could only define as concern. But  _fuck_ , Theon was impossible to read ninety nine percent of the time and god knows what he was thinking then. Probably wishing they could’ve stayed in that hallway. 

Sansa wished they could have stayed in that hallway. 

——

When she was younger she wanted summer all year round, but age had brought a love of the cold. She was used to the cold, it felt so much like home. Leaving the restaurant and needing to zip up her jacket was satisfying. If her apartment was closer and if she wasn’t towering in her heels she’d have chosen to walk home. 

Sansa pulled out her phone and started looking up a taxi service, lifting it up to call when Robb came up from behind and brushed against her arm. A half hearted nudge that had lost momentum before it even started.  

“Put that down Sans, we’ll give you a ride.” 

He was trying to be brotherly, trying to connect with her, and it already had Sansa on the verge of tears. 

She gave him a smile and shook her head no, “oh no, don’t worry, it’s fine.”

Robb lost his hopeful smile, looking downtrodden and hurt and it made a lump form in her throat. 

“Sansa, please, I need to talk to you.“ 

“I..” 

“Sorry Robb! Girls night!! Face masks, nail varnish, all that shit!” Arya yelled as she ran behind Sansa and with a death grip dragged the redhead towards her car. It was rude to Robb, but Sansa was endlessly grateful. She didn’t want to speak to Robb about things before she’d figured them out herself, and she didn’t want to do it all in front of Talisa. 

Robb would be suspicious though, the sisters never had a girls night. Arya hated them, she’d always walk through Sansa’s sleepovers and fire off snarky comments. 

Settled in Arya’s little hatchback, Sansa let her head roll back against the headrest. 

“I owe you one.” Sansa finally mumbled as Arya turned the engine on. 

“You looked like you were going to start sobbing any second. That was for everyone’s benefit.” 

It made Sansa laugh, then Arya joined in, over the top giggling when they both knew it wasn’t all that funny in the first place. 

“So,” Arya breathed when the laughter slowed. “He’s bad in bed huh?” 

“Oh my god, you really don’t beat around the bush do you!” Sansa exclaimed, shaking her head. 

Arya just grinned, "And you're stuck with me now," She said, pulling out of the parking space and starting down the road. "So go on, cause I'm just going to keep asking." 

She paused, scrunching up her nose at her sister. "This is weird." She didn't really want to explain it all, the moments with Theon were so exclusively  _theirs_ and the idea of sharing it felt like a breach of trust and like it would change everything, it wouldn't be their private moment anymore. 

"Yes it's fucking weird, you had sex with Theon of all people! Tell me everything or I'm taking you back to Robb." 

"Cruel." Sansa quipped, then huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "No, it wasn't bad. It was great, actually." 

Arya half shrieked half laughed, "Seriously?"

"Mmhm." She looked down at her hands and bit her lip. "Best I ever had." 

"Amazing. Robb will actually murder him. How'd it happen?" 

"I uh, I was out to dinner with Joff and he wasn't paying attention, obsessed with his work-"

"Neglecting you, again." 

Sansa glared at her sister, shaking her head at her little input. "I saw Theon on a date with some girl. And then Joff ordered for me and I hated what he got me so I went to the bathroom, then theon came in and, yeah. It happened." 

"Bathroom sex. _Bathroom sex_?! Not even bathroom sex,  _public_ bathroom sex with your shitty boyfriend in the next room! You little slut."

"Arya!" Sansa chastised, blushing heavily at the very straight forward call out of her behaviour. Even though Arya seemed impressed by it, having her actions spoken to her only made her feel worse. 

"When was this?" 

"I don't know, two months ago?" 

"Oh please, you know exactly when." 

Sansa just shrugged, refusing to admit that yes, she knew the exact date and time. 

"So is it awkward now?" 

"No. Yes. I don't know. We've had a few run ins since but they’ve mostly been okay." 

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Even tonight. We kissed when I went to the bathroom." She cringed at the admission, pulling her knees up in embarrassment. "Gods, Arya, I'm disgusting. I'm cheating on my boyfriend with my brother's best friend. I'm literally the worst."

Arya looked at Sansa, then back to the road, with a look of disbelief. "No. No, you're not. Only when you say it like that. Let's rephrase it, yeah? Your abusive boyfriend is acting shitty, as usual, so you end up giving your attention to a guy that's been around your entire life, he's basically a safe space." 

Sansa grimaced, giving herself a harder punishment than most people would. Most people except her mother, probably. “That’s just an excuse. It doesn’t change what I’ve done.”

“Fine.” Arya paused, as if she were going to drop it. “I like Theon more than Joffrey.” 

“Yeah, I know that.” Sansa replied with an eye roll. It’s not as if her family didn’t make it clear they hated her boyfriend. 

“And you prefer him to Joffrey.” 

“What?”

“You said best you ever had.”

“Sex isn’t everything Arya.”

“I don’t think either of us were just talking about sex.” Arya said, with a look that said she was smarter than everyone. She’d learned that look from Sansa, and the redhead finally understood why her siblings got annoyed when it was directed at them. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Sansa told her, switching on the radio and turning her head to look out the window, purposefully avoiding her sister’s gaze. 

Her sister was wrong, wasn’t she? 

——-

Perhaps it was arrogance, but Theon had known in advance that Talisa’s friend was going to proposition him as they left the restaurant. He dipped his head and tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He politely declined, and her mouth opened in surprise, but she pulled her head back slightly and gave a brief nod. 

“Right. Fine. I’ll see you then.” She hovered awkwardly, as if expecting him to change his mind, but when the moment dragged too long she gave up and walked away. Not long after, he felt Robb’s arm wrap over his shoulders. 

“Now hold on.” Robb started, a smirk that matched Theon’s worn on his lips. “Did I just see Theon fucking Greyjoy turn down a fit girl offering herself on a plate?” 

Theon chuckled and shrugged as best he could with the weight of Robb’s arm on top of it. “She’s your wife’s best friend. Too messy.”

“You fucked my ex’s sister at my birthday party.”

“That was different!”

“How?” He laughed, incredulous.

“You were never serious about Nadia.” Theon justified, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. 

“Serious enough.” Robb huffed, remembering the telling off he’d received after the party when it should’ve been birthday sex. In the midst of his memory Robb took the cigarette from Theon’s hand and took a long drag. 

“Not like this. Not marriage and kids serious.” 

“Nah, nah I know you. You’re see through.” Robb turned, pointing at Robb with the cig in his fingers. “You’re into someone, properly.”

“Oh get off it.” Theon rolled his eyes and brushed Robb off, literally. 

“I know you are so just tell me.” Theon looked back at Robb’s stare and couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“She’s slept with me but has a boyfriend.”

“Shit.” Robb frowned, stilling for a moment before handing back the cigarette. “Talisa’ll kill me if she finds out I’ve been smoking.” He spoke just to fill the silence, they both knew it. That was the problem with knowing someone your entire life, you knew too much about each other. “You like her properly though?” Theon nodded. “She happy with her boyfriend?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So do something man, when have you been the type to sit around and brood?”

Theon scoffed, shaking his head. “Forever?”

“Oh shut it. Be brave, tell her.” 

“It’s too complicated Robb. Trust me.”

“I bet it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Oh what would you know, perfect family, perfect girl, perfect marriage, kid on the way.” 

“You say that as if we’ve not had our fair share of family drama.”

“Robb?” Talisa called, waving him over. “You ready to go?”

“Coming,” he called back to her, then focused on his friend again. “Just try. What’ve you got to lose?” 

And with that he left, a leisurely jog back to his car leaving Theon to his thoughts.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some necessary conversation to get things going. intending to wrap everything up in the next few chapters


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey, are you busy later?” Sansa asked as soon as he picked up the phone, knowing her nerve would fail her if she waited or made small talk. 

There was small pause of silence but for Sansa it felt endless, until Theon finally spoke.

“Yeah, what’ve you got in mind?”

“I need to go to that craft shop on the outside of town, I was hoping you could give me a lift? They’ve got that coffee shop next door, I’ll buy you whatever broody drink you like.” 

“Sure, I’ve got the shop but I can close early. Say four?” 

“Great, can’t wait. I’ll see you then.” Sansa grinned even though he couldn’t see it, hanging up on him and sticking the phone in the pocket of her denim shorts. 

——

There was a buzz on her phone and Sansa knew immediately that it was Theon texting her he’d arrived. She grabbed her bag, pulled the strap onto her shoulder and ran out of her apartment, down the steps and climbed to Theon’s four-by-four.

“Hey!” She smiled brightly at him, shoving her bag into the footwell. “Thanks for doing this.” 

“You’re welcome,” He replied, wearing that smug smirk of his. He nodded down to the radio, “you can change it if you want.” He handed her a cd case with his own handwritten scrawled playlist. 

Sansa settled back into the seat and shook her head, “Nah, this is good.” An old Kasabian track was playing, and it was so  _Theon_  that she couldn’t bear to change it. She’d associated the band with him for years, since he’d insisted to Robb over the dinner table that they were the next big thing. 

——  

"So what are you making?" Theon asked as he trailed behind her, running his hands along the different types of yarn they walked past. 

"A baby jumper. And little tiny booties." She told him as she headed towards the pattern shelves. She found the baby section easily and started flicking through, smiling when Theon came and stood beside her. It felt comfortable, him standing so close, looking over her shoulder. "Oh my god this is the cutest thing ever." Sansa angled the photo of a baby in a fluffy knitted romper with teddy ears on the hood.

Theon smiled, more at her reaction than at the picture, and his hand found it's way to rest on her lower back. She wore a tropical shirt tied at her waist and she could feel him touching her bare skin above her denim shorts. She tried not to think about it. "You should make it for them."

"I can't, I'm really not that good. We're going plain old striped jumper." 

"Please, like that ever stopped you." It made Sansa smile, but she gave a slight shake of her head and put the card back into it's spot. She turned away but caught his fingers with her own, loosely dragging him along behind her. She brought him over to a display of one of her favoured yarns in varying colours.

"What colours do you like?" With a moment of sadness she let go of him to wave her hand in front of the mass of bobbles, like an over the top shopping network girl. "Two or three." 

"Hmm," Theon went loudly, crossing his arms over his chest and making a big act of considering it all. "This one," He said, grabbing for a yellow one and bouncing it in his hands as if it were a ball. 

"Do you think it's too bright for a baby?" 

"No such thing, it'll be cool." 

"Maybe a neutral colour with it then, to calm it down." 

"Nah, double the bright colours. Pair it with neon pink." 

Sansa laughed, shaking her head and her hair with it. "God no!"

"Fine, be boring." He said moodily, though he had that a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Sansa pouted, picking up the yellow yarn and giving him a coy look before turning away and going to choose something else. The neutrals she liked were beiges, creams and soft greys, and she held his colour up beside each of them and after much deliberation, back and forth, she eventually picked up the grey. 

She didn't need much else, but quite frankly Sansa didn't want to leave because leaving would mean being dropped off, and no more time with Theon. She wanted entire days together, and dreamt of trips to the beach with ice creams, he'd always liked the sea, and then in the evenings they could make a bonfire and have s'mores. 

“He’s worried about you, you know.” 

Sansa paused and swallowed hard, her nod almost imperceptible. “Yeah.”

“You should talk to him.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why not? He’s your brother!”

“Cause I’d end up telling him everything.” She said, voice dropping on the last word. 

The realisation came through for Theon and he nodded, before shrugging his shoulders. “He’ll find out eventually.” 

Sansa looked anxious, but gave a small nod. “Yeah.” 

They made their way slowly through the rest of the store, looking at card making supplies where she babbled on about the ideas she had for the Christmas cards she intended to send out this year, with a promise he'd receive something lovely and possibly including a glitter bomb. Sansa also led them into the cooking supplies, telling him about the last cake she’d made and how it had come out well, but decorating it had been so time consuming. She even showed him a picture, one he’d already seen on Instagram, but he didn’t tell her that as she seemed so excited to show him. 

Eventually they made their way to the checkout, slowly through the empty car park to his car. 

“So how long do you think it’ll take you to finish it?” He asked, nodding at her brown paper bag of supplies. 

“Not too long if I actually dedicate time to it. Shouldn’t be hard.” Joffrey was super busy with work, she was alone most nights at the moment so having something to do with her hands might keep her from going stir crazy. 

She opened the car door and dropped the bag in the footwell, turning back to Theon as he stood waiting on her side rather than going to the driver’s seat. That lingering feeling affecting the both of them, hovering close by with expectation in the air. 

“Thanks for bringing me.” She told him, deciding to be the one to take what she wanted. Sansa took the final step and leaned in, bringing them too close to be in the realm of simple friendship. She took a moment then sighed softly against his skin and gently pressed her lips to his. 

It was horrendously public and anyone could have seen, but the thought didn’t occur as she looped her arms around his neck, or when Theon’s arms snaked around her waist and held her close. 

Sansa couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, body reacting fast and eager for more. It had been too long without him, she decided. 

Sansa shut the passenger side door and the decision was silently made, the pair of them clumsily clambering into the back seat where she straddled his lap and ducked down to kiss his neck. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as she ground her hips down against him, the layers of their clothes becoming the most frustrating obstacle in their lives for the minute. 

He rested his hands on her bare thighs and looked up at the car ceiling, closing his eyes as he searched for his courage. It was a difficult thing when everything about her was a distraction. 

“I want you.” He eventually spat out, clenching his jaw as he awaited a response. 

“I want you too,” She sighed in delight and reached down to unbutton his jeans, but he put his hand on hers to pause her.

“No, Sansa, I want you. To myself.” 

She was still for a moment before nodding, she wanted that too. She felt hungry for him, wanted him in her life every minute of every day. “Okay,” she murmured, emphasising it with a soft kiss of his lips. It only took a moment though before Theon’s hands were all over her. 

It took some awkward manoeuvring but They managed to get Sansa’s shorts and underwear off, chucked aside carelessly while he undressed his bottom half and rubbered up. 

Sansa sank onto him with half lidded eyes, leaning back and holding onto the front seats for support as she set a slow pace. Theon unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it open, letting out a groan when he realised she hadn’t been wearing a bra the entire time. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d planned this from the start. 

Theon ran his hand up from her hip over her bare stomach to her chest, taking in every inch of skin he could. He’d never seen so much of her and after imagining this for a long time, he realised it surpassed the fantasy. 

He began circling her with his thumb and smiled at the way her eyes clenched shut with a sigh.

The more he touched her the more noise she made, soft whimpers and keening whines turning to louder moans and pleas, all  _oh_   _god... fuck- yes Theon please..oh..!_ asher careful rhythm started to fall apart. 

She leaned forward and tilted her head down to kiss him, all teeth and tongue as she erratically rocked her hips down against him and his thumb. It wasn’t long until she pulled her head aside and ducked into his shoulder, hot shaky breaths over the shell of his ear as she felt herself getting close. Sansa wrapped her arm around his shoulders and held onto the headrest with the other, her movements desperate and frantic until she finally tipped over the edge. A cry wracked through her as she came, Theon thought it might well be the best thing he’d ever heard. So good it sent him over the edge too, breathing hard and heavy against her neck. 

——

It was after they’d cleaned themselves up and redressed that Sansa recognised how  _public_  that had been. Anyone could have seen. Her friends, her family, the Lannisters, someone could have filmed them and put it online already! 

She’d never felt quite so desperate in her life, she’d never do something like that with her actual boyfriend. Sansa tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over at Theon driving. Sansa had kept her shoes off, instead choosing to rest her feet on the dashboard. 

Anyone else and Theon would have told them off, but it was Sansa, and she’d just rode him in the backseat. 

“I told Arya about us.” Sansa blurted, feeling the need to let him in that it wasn’t their little secret anymore. 

“Seriously?” He asked, shocked that she’d told and  _who_  she’d told. 

“I needed to, I hope that’s okay.”

“You’re still leaving him, right?” There was a very real worry that it had simply been said in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah, I will. Just give me a couple days, okay?”

“Do you want me to be there?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll take Arya I think. She’d never let me chicken out.”

Theon reached out and put his hand on her leg, giving her a reassuring smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took forever but we're nearing the end now


	10. Chapter 10

It was all good and well Arya and Theon telling her that it would be fine, but they had never been on the receiving end of Joffrey’s wrath. It was different when he was in front of you, spitting his venomous words in your face ready to give you a bruise that you’d have to hide under a long sleeved blouse for weeks.

So Sansa was preparing, she’d asked Arya to come round to hers and then they were both going to his apartment while he was at work to collect everything she owned. That way she could rip the bandaid off, do it fast and then disappear from his life before he had a chance to get violent. Theon had offered to help, but it felt like something she needed to do without him. Plus, there was something that felt weird about inviting him into Joffrey’s home.

It was her relationship, her past year and a half spent with Joffrey, his boyish smirk and her first date, her virginity lost and their shared evenings and as glad as she was to be ending it there was also sadness that he wouldn’t understand.

At least she could tell Arya to shut her stupid mouth.

She’d gathered a bunch of bags for them to take to his apartment and left them near the door, ready for when Arya arrived. Anxiously she checked her watch. Joffrey wouldn’t come home for hours but still she worried. Arya needed to arrive quickly before she lost her nerve, because she'd been sat bouncing her knee long enough to start to ache and she was considering getting her old retainer out before she started grinding her teeth. 

There was a knock and Sans jumped to her feet, forgetting for the moment that Arya would never knock. She'd simply storm in, just like she would when they lived under the same roof. The amount of times her sister had found her doing something embarrassing, from singing Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera into a hairbrush to getting hot and heavy under the covers with Harry Hardyng. If Arya hadn't interrupted he might have been her first, but the moment was spoiled. Probably a good thing really, not long after she'd heard Saffron in the locker rooms telling her friends about their recent hook ups. 

She yanked open the door with an eager smile which, and she hated herself for it, faltered when she spotted Robb instead. 

It hurt even more when she saw the crushed look in his eyes.

"Can I come in?" He asked, after the dragging silence hung between them. She didn't have the heart to say no, and so she opened the door to him with a nod.

"Of course."

Robb stepped inside, hands tucked in his pockets looking as awkward as Sansa had ever seen him. Her older brother had always been the strong type, but she'd seemed to have stripped him back to parts that didn't suit him.

 "What're all the bags for, you planning a trip?" He eventually asked, to break the tension, though he didn’t look any less upset than before.   

Sansa cleared her throat and shook her head no. "I just need to collect a few bits." She spoke casually, nonchalant but avoiding his eye and instead made her way to the coffee table where her glass of water sat.  

"Ah." He nodded, taking a moment to pluck up the courage before continuing as he followed her to sit on the sofa beside her. “I’ve been trying to catch you for a while. You’ve not been answering my texts.”

“I know, sorry. It's just been.." She simply waved her arms around to mimick how up the air her life had felt recently. 

"Is everything okay?" Robb asked, reaching out and putting his hand on hers. 

Sansa stared down at their joint hands, a lump forming in her throat as she gave a quick nod of her head. "Yeah, I'm fine." She told him, and she would be soon. As uncertain as everything was, she had faith that this was the right solution. 

“That voicemail,” he started, but Sansa cut him off with an exasperated groan. 

“Ugh, do we have to talk about that? Please, everything about that night was so embarrassing.” 

“It wasn’t, and yes we do. You don’t get to leave a wasted voicemail while you’re in tears talking about how awful you are and it gets ignored! You’ve been avoiding me for weeks Sans, what’s going on?”

“Nothing! Everything’s fine.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, not believing a word of it. “I see right through you, remember? Come on, what happened?” 

Sansa sighed in defeat. “Fine. I had gotten dressed up in some ridiculous dress he’d bought me and made him dinner and everything for a special night cause I felt the need to make things up to him and he came home with his uncles and some lackey and humiliated me. Okay?” She’d stroked her arm up and down while she explained, subconsciously soothing where he’d gripped her. 

Robb looked stern and she hated it. He looked so much better when he smiled. “Did he hurt you?” 

“He held a little too tight, but no. They would’ve heard.” 

That sent Robb off, stalking up and down twice before he tried to get past her and the door. “But he has before, hasn’t he?! I’m going to speak to him.” 

Sansa held her arms up and stopped him before he could push past her, shaking her head. “No, no Robb I don’t want you to. It’s fine. I’m handling it. I promise. You’ll only make it worse.” She insisted, running her hands over his shoulders to calm him down as much as she could.

"Handling it?" Robb questioned, jaw clenched. “The only way things could be handled with him is if he was gone from your life forever.”

Sansa shifted her weight onto one foot and sighed, “Like I said, I’m handling it.” 

“You’re breaking up with him?” Robb asked eagerly, he was clearly happy about the news but she'd have appreciated if he'd masked it ever so slightly. 

"I want to get my stuff first, minimal contact."

"That's great! I can help, make it go quicker."

"You don't have to, Arya's on her way over." Sansa advised, trying to brush it off naturally. 

"I want to.” 

Sansa scoffed, shaking her head at him. "You're too excited about this." She chastised, frowning back at him. 

"Oh come on, it's a good thing." Robb came over, holding her shoulders and giving her a soft little shake. "He makes you miserable." 

Sansa shrugged off his hands. "Well maybe I deserve it." She muttered to herself. 

Robb then sat beside her, nudging her side. "Don't say that, no you don't." 

"I've been cheating on him." She whispered beneath her breath, staring at her fumbling fingers. “I’m a cheating girlfriend now.”

Robb frowned, mouth parting to speak but pausing as he took it in. "Who’s the other guy?" He asked, and she could see the muscles in his jaw move as the wheels turned in his eyes, this conversation reminding him a lot of another he’d had recently. 

"Don't get all big brother on me." Sansa groaned, shaking her head at him and made to walk off. 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and stopped her from moving away again, "It’s serious? And he’s better?”

“Yeah.” 

Robb stared at her for a moment before he gave a nod of approval. “Okay.”

Theon’s name had not been mentioned, but Sansa felt like it was known but unspoken. At least she hoped so. 

“Right let’s go fetch your shit!” Arya called as she walked in without knocking, clapping her hands once for emphasis. “Oh hey Robb, what’s up?” Sansa smiled at her younger sister, ever casual when it came to an emotional situation. It could be annoying at times but now the redhead appreciated it. 

“I’m coming with you guys.”

“Cool. I didn’t realise you’d left that much stuff at his place.”

“I didn’t.” Sansa told her with a shrug of her shoulders. Robb wasn’t going to leave unless he was coming with, they didn’t have much choice. 

The trio grabbed the bags and piled into Robb’s car, it was the bigger of his and Arya’s, and took directions from Sansa in the backseat guiding him towards Joffrey’s place. As expected, his parking space was empty but despite that Sansa felt shaky. It was lucky it hadn’t reached her fingers, because her siblings would definitely notice that. 

Half way up the stairs and Sansa was doubting her choice. Joff wasn’t all bad, they had good times too! As she turned to tell Arya they should just go, her sister preempted the decision with a shake of her head. 

“Oh no you don’t,“ she looped her arm around Sansa’s waist and used it to guide her further up the stairs. “This is a good decision.” She added for reassurance, snatched the keys from her older sister’s hand and opened the door.

 “Jeez.” Robb stated as he followed the girls in, having a good nose around Joffrey’s apartment. 

“Well this is...” Arya paused, a confused look on her face. “Weirdly homey? I was expecting to come in and everything be white and cold and clinical?”

“Yeah!” Robb chimed in, “I know exactly what you mean. This isn't very _him_.” 

“You don’t know him.” Sansa commented, unable to keep the offence she felt from her voice. How many times had she told them he wasn’t like how they thought, that he was better than what they’d heard. There was a reason she was with him. 

“Yeah whatever,” Arya brushed it off as she went off to Joffrey’s bedroom to pack Sansa’s clothes. She’d have preferred to have done that part herself, but she supposed better Arya than Robb. 

As she headed towards the bathroom to get her toiletries she spotted a framed photo of her and Joff sitting on the bookshelf. It had been taken at one of his work parties and they looked happy. As Sansa reached out to touch the frame, Robb passed by behind her and gave her a kind smile. It pulled her back to reality and she tried not to let the sadness show. 

Packing everything didn’t take that long, Sansa hadn’t brought loads into his place in the first place. He’d said it was in the way and didn’t match, which never made a huge amount of sense to her but she’d accepted it anyway. He didn’t have much at hers either. 

“Okay, that’s it. Let’s go.” Arya clapped her hands together decisively and went for the door, but Robb kept his eyes on Sansa as she looked around the room one last time. 

“Sans?” He spoke softly, and she gave a half smile to tell him she was okay. 

“Yeah.” She nodded, following Arya out the door and letting Robb lock it behind him. 

They shuffled down the steps with bags half blocking their legs while they walked, it was amusing and she puffed a vague laugh when Arya made a frustrated sound. 

She heard the slam of a door and looked up from the steps, fear sinking into her stomach when she saw Joffrey coming towards them. 

“Sansa, what’s going on?” He called out, and as Arya brushed by him he sneered nodding towards her siblings.  “What’re _they_ doing here?” He stood in front of the steps and blocked Sansa in to confront her. “What’s all this?” Joffrey reached for the handle of the bag she held, yanking it open and palming through her things. It was painfully obvious what was happening and he glared daggers at her. “Explain.”

Sansa felt frozen in place but it didn’t take long for Robb to step in front of her, putting his hand out to push Lannister back a step. 

“ _Don’t_ touch me.” Joffrey hit Robb’s hand away, but he had already pushed him back enough to make a path for him and Sansa to get past and towards the car. 

Arya grabbed the bags from Sansa and started loading them into the back, while Robb did the same for the bags he’d carried. 

“Sansa.” Joffrey stormed towards her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back a few steps away from her family. 

“Joff,” she practically whimpered, “I’m sorry.” Sansa was struggling to get the words out, the ones that made it final and ended everything she’d known for so long. 

It didn’t help that his eyes had gone soft, as if he was truly upset. In a rational moment Sansa would have known he was playing her, but surely what they had meant something to him. 

Doubts formed in her mind, but her mind drifted towards Theon. That sort of half smile he did, the way his blue eyes always looked like storms and the way his shirt always hung a little loose over his chest and left her a little weak at the knees. Or how he made her laugh, and she never laughed like that with Joffrey. 

It was the encouragement she needed.  

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was not worth the wait


	11. Chapter 11

Sansa sat on the very edge of her sofa. It somehow felt wrong to sit back and relax. She'd made Arya and Robb leave almost as soon as they got back to her apartment and there was a pile of bags sitting in the corner of the room. Unpacking also felt strange, and she wasn't quite ready to do that either. She'd not been through a proper breakup before, she could hardly call her moment with Harry Hardyng a relationship, and she'd not expected this level of unease to come from leaving someone she wasn't happy with in the first place. 

Ice cream. What she wanted was to eat a pint of over the top sweet ice cream in bed. She felt like an awful cliche, but she jumped up from the sofa, threw on a coat, grabbed her handbag and walked out the door. 

The walk to her local shop was a good thing, the cold air was like needles against her face and it was all she was managing to think about. Her cheeks were flushed pink by the time she walked in the store and she headed straight for the frozen aisle. Her favourite Ben and Jerry’s was Baked Alaska, but on the shelf above sat Peanut Butter Cup. That was Theon’s flavour, they’d had an argument about it once because his was relatively recent and hers had been discontinued ‘ _but brought back after everyone’s outrage!_ ’. 

The decision barely even had to be made, she bought both. 

Walking up to his door and knocking shouldn’t have been as nerve wracking as it was, and it was then that Sansa realised so much of her anxiety was fear of moving on to something new, something unknown and unpredictable. And if it did go wrong, this one could devastate her. 

Her worry settled though when Theon opened the door, wearing that stupid half smile and sweats. 

“I got ice cream.” Sansa told him, lifting her arm to indicate the bag she was holding. 

“It better not be baked alaska.” Theon teased, stepping aside to let her in. 

Sans gave him a playful glare as she walked past him, feeling a little electric as his fingers grazed her thigh. 

She’d never actually been to Theon’s apartment before, he was always hanging around her family home and when Robb moved out, he was there instead. Marg would have walked right into the kitchen and started searching for spoons, but she lingered for him to follow, settling against a counter across from him. He always had such a casual air about him and Sansa envied that, she felt so wound up most the time. His presence calmed her though, allowed her a chance to breathe outside of classes and homework and terrible boyfriends and family drama. 

Theon pulled two spoons out and rested his hand on the counter, looking at her as if he was putting two and two together. “You alright?” 

“It’s done.” She replied simply, because her emotions were so up and down she wasn’t sure she could answer him properly. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, stepping towards her tentatively. It made her smile but she tried to hold it down, it seemed to her that he was nervous to assume it was for him, even though she’d turned up at his place unannounced in the evening. 

“Mmhm.” She nodded with a smile, setting her bag on the counter. He took that as approval and sidled up to her, putting the spoons next to the ice cream and then set his hands on the counter either side of her hips.

Theon’s smile was getting wider, smug, and she scrunched her nose and shook her head in defiance. “Don't give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look! You look like the cat that got the cream.” 

“And did I?” He asked, brushing her side with his thumb. 

Sansa let out a heavy breath and reached her arms around his shoulders. “I’m all yours, Theon Greyjoy.” 

He let out a small chuckle before making a swift move in and pressed his lips on hers. She could feel him smiling into the kiss and her heart swelled, feeling as if this was what she’d always imagined when it came to a boyfriend. 

Theon pulled back and they both just looked at each other for a moment, she was grinning and when she couldn’t smile any wider she cracked, grabbed the spoons and walked away. Still, her smile stuck as she headed into his living room. Sansa felt like a kid with a crush, with the way he affected her. 

She plopped down on the couch and waited for him to wander in, ice cream in each hand, to sit beside her. Sansa kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs beneath her, angling herself towards him. 

“So how’d he react?” Theon asked, balancing the ice cream tub on her knee. He was hoping for some sadistic pleasure, wanting to see Joffrey unhappy. He’d been handed everything on a plate, but he didn’t get the girl, which Theon thought was the most important part.

“He was angry. Like, eyes red and that vein in his forehead bulging out.” 

“Wish you’d taken a picture.” He joked, and she chuckled with a look that said ‘ _you’re terrible but I don’t entirely mind_ ’. 

“What gets me is that I know he wasn’t upset that _I_ was leaving, he was just upset he was being left. It’s like I was nothing.” She huffed, struggling to pull off the plastic wrap that kept the lid on in her frustration. 

“He’s a dick, a self observed, entitled, boring, dick.” Theon told her, pointing with his spoon while he tucked in, having opened his tub with ease. 

“Yeah, I know. But still.” She just knew he’d chucked the pictures of them together out already, probably within the first minute of walking inside his apartment after she left. 

Theon watched her as she finally managed to rip open the plastic and ripped off the lid, scooping the vanilla ice cream into her mouth and looking like she was eating ambrosia rather than Ben and Jerry’s. Was it terrible he wanted to be that spoon? 

Robb had texted in the middle of the afternoon with a simple message of ‘ _don’t fuck it up’_. It was ambiguous though Theon had no real doubts what it was about. He’d not answered though, because truth be told he doubted she’d ever actually leave Joffrey. It’d been months since their bathroom encounter, and he’d never have taken her for the affair kind of girl. 

Sansa’s attention had been captured by a dog food advert and while he had a second, he took his phone out his pocket and sent Robb a response. ‘ _I’ll do my best_ ’. 

“I want another dog.” Sansa said to no one in particular, and Theon knew she missed Lady like nothing else. 

“Maybe when you’re out of college?” He suggested. 

The night went on, talking whatever popped into their heads and watching whatever came on the tv until Sansa pushed her pot of ice cream into his hands. “Take it away before I eat the whole thing!” 

“Eat the whole thing if you want, I won’t judge.” 

It made her smile, but Sans still huffed and nudged him gently. “That’s no use to me Theon, if I eat the whole thing I’ll be sick.” She leaned out and set it on the coffee table, and when she leaned back she settled herself against his shoulder, her hand resting on his thigh. 

Theon desperately wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. The declaration of being _all_ his, he wanted her right there in the hallway. If she hadn’t walked out of the kitchen he would’ve fucked her on the counter. The evening was a test of restraint for the both of them, clearly, but while she could control her ice cream cravings, Theon was crumbling. 

He glanced down at her every few seconds, waiting for her to meet his eye, and once she did he gave her a moment to back away before ducking in and crashing his lips to hers. 

The kiss was messy and eager and within a minute he had her pushed onto her back and he was settled between her legs, lips wandering down her neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmured between kisses. 

“You’ve had me before,” she whispered back, wondering why she felt shy to say it aloud. 

As he pulled back from her neck a purple mark was starting to bloom, “Not to myself,” he told her, and she realised that he was giving her the love bite because he _could_ now. They didn’t have to hide. Sansa had to admit she was relieved, Theon had always been a bit of a womaniser and there were doubts in her mind, worries that he might lose interest when they weren’t sneaking around. 

“I want you,” She told him, tilting her head to catch his lips in another kiss. She could’ve sworn he sighed in relief. 

Theon’s hand was on her jaw and he tilted her head to the side, angling her neck so he had full access, a flurry of hot kisses left in his wake. 

Her legs were drawing up around him, holding him close as she made attempts to rock her hips up against his. She wasn’t used to foreplay, she wasn’t used to the attention, she wanted him and she wanted him _now_. Sans reached down his back and started tugging his top over his head until he had to stop and let her get it off him. 

His arms were around her again in a second and Sansa took the moment to him back so he was sat on his knees, pulling herself up to straddle him in one smooth movement. She rocked her hips down against him, letting out a half giggle half groan at the feel of him against her. 

Theon made quick work of her top and bra, and as soon as she was free an onslaught of hot kisses came over every inch of her chest, her nipple in his mouth while he toyed with the other. Her hands reached down between them, undoing the button of his jeans but as soon as it popped open he’d pushed her down again, half propped up against the arm of the sofa. 

He was kissing down her stomach now, pulling back when her jeans got in the way. He peeled them off along with her underwear.

He’d never actually seen her naked before and he was staring, taking every inch of her pale skin in, and she’d never felt so exposed and vulnerable with someone in her life. And he was taking his time, stood up to undress himself, but never taking his eyes off her for a second. 

Theon started again at her knee, trailing his lips up her thigh with a kiss now and then for good measure. He spread her legs a little more and glanced up at her because she’d gone awfully timid. It took him a second but he figured out why: no one had done this for her before. 

She gave the tiniest nod, appreciative of the fact he was checking she was happy, and he ducked down against her. 

Sansa let out a little squeak as he started moving his tongue, it was a new sensation and her nerves had her tightly wound but not long after she relaxed into it. Her breaths were getting deeper as he worried his tongue over her clit, a familiar ache starting to spread over her. A moan fell past her lips and she reached her hand down into his hair, an encouragement not to stop. 

Theon had no intentions to stop though, instead working harder to make her make that sound again. 

And he did, again and again until her hips were bucking and moving too much for him to keep at her. He looped his arms under her legs and over her hips, holding her still. 

Sansa groaned at the sudden restriction, her hands reaching down against the sofa as she tried to squirm and writhe from his grip. It was cruel and she wanted to tell him so but words were getting caught in her throat and coming out as panted whines. She stared up at the ceiling with a look that somehow blended desperation, resignation and bliss. It was all too much and she couldn’t take him holding her on the edge like this, her hands jerked up to cover her face for a moment before flying straight back to grip and pull at the sofa, holding on for dear life as he crashed her over the edge with a choked cry. 

Theon pressed a kiss into her thigh then leaned back and tugged her down gently so she could lay back properly, then clambered over her and lay his affections against her jaw and ear while she regained herself.  

“Oh my gosh,” she panted, laying her hand on his back while the other fell over the edge and grazed the carpet. Sans turned her head to the side and caught him in a lazy smooch. 

He reached down and guided himself inside her, his arms caged around her head to hold himself slightly above her. If it were anyone else she might’ve felt trapped but with Theon she’d never felt safer or more comfortable. 

He moved slowly at first while they shared kisses, but then she bit and dragged his lower lip between her teeth and he started to go faster, enjoying how she whimpered into his mouth. Her hand was on his jaw, the other wrapped around his shoulders, her hips angling up to his, as if she somehow needed him closer. 

Sansa tugged her head aside and closed her eyes, still sensitive from before and now his fingers were circling her in all the right ways. “Theon, _fuck_.” She managed to spit out, her hips bucking up against him. 

He was on the verge himself, his rhythm was falling apart with every thrust and every moan of his name over the shell of his ear was winding up that coil in the pit of his stomach. He was working with his fingers furiously and maybe not as dextrously as he could’ve managed when he wasn’t focusing entirely on not finishing. 

“I’m gonna,” she clawed at his back, digging in so hard there were little crescent moons left in her wake. 

“Yes,” he managed back, “Sans,” and as soon as he saw that twisted expression break into one of pleasure, and heard that cry, he cracked. Theon’s arched over her, gripped onto the arm of the chair as he came inside her with a deep groan. 

He held himself still for a few moments as it all subsided, then eased himself out of her and flopped onto his side beside her. She rolled onto her side to offer him more space, and he slipped his arm around her waist, the other under her neck and over her chest. 

Sansa let out a contented sigh, both at how satisfied she was and the fact that, for once, they were able to stay close afterwards. She didn’t need to run to someone else and pretend, she didn’t need to fake anything, she didn’t need to be anything other than here, with him. 

“Theon,” she ducked her chin and kissed his arm where she could reach it. 

“Mm?” He questioned lazily. 

“I’m sorry this took so long.” 

“Don’t be.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks! Thank you so much for reading and commenting and being so kind, you've no idea how terrified to post I was at the start and the response has been so lovely I can't even believe it. I appreciate it so much!


End file.
